Don't Hide
by Saywhaaaat518
Summary: Her voice cut through him like a knife. It was full of pain and sorrow, the after effects of not dealing with their problem earlier, of waiting until now to let it all come out. Set during DH, both book and movie.
1. Prologue

_**Disclaimer: Sadly, the wonderful world of Harry Potter does not actually belong to me. I'm just borrowing Jo Rowling's characters for the time being.**_

_**Author's Note: For a further summer, this takes place ten years after the war. During the Horcrux hunt after Ron left, Harry and Hermione's relationship starts to develop into something more. Ten years later, Harry decides to make a huge confession to Hermione about his feelings, and together they relive everything that happened to them while they were searching for the Horcruxes and how everything changed between them. I realize that this idea has been done about a million times, but please give it a shot. It'll mostly be my own made up scenes that took place during the hunt, but I will also have some major plot points in there as well. Anyway, enough dilly-dallying, please enjoy the prologue :)**_

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><p>"Why would you tell me this?"<p>

Her voice cut through him like a knife. It was full of pain and sorrow, the after effects of not dealing with their problem earlier, of waiting until now to let it all come out, of letting all of this pent up emotion build within them, growing and spreading like an infectious disease.

"Because it's the truth," he replied flatly, finally looking up into her eyes.

He hadn't looked at her since he walked through the door of her tiny flat. He hadn't been able to look at her throughout his whole speech, his confession. He always averted his eyes from her, staring out the window, looking up and over her head, becoming fascinated with his shoe laces. But he looked at her now, his eyes meeting hers, only to see tears hiding behind her lashes, her face twisted in an expression of pain and confusion.

He hadn't thought about what his confession would do to her. Quite honestly, he hadn't thought about her feelings at all. But this was only for the sole reason that he thought they were on the same page.

"Please don't cry," he said quietly and awkwardly, breaking away from her tearful, penetrating stare.

He had never been able to comfort her as she cried. It had never been too difficult comforting other women as they sobbed; a pat on the back and a simple, "It'll be alright," always seemed to suffice, but with her… he didn't feel right about brushing her off like that. She was too important to him; she meant more to him than just a small pat on the back.

"How long have you known?" she managed to choke out, breaking the silence that had fallen between them, and he looked up to meet her eyes once more.

"Honestly? All along, I suppose," he responded with a shrug, though he didn't know why he was shrugging. This wasn't a shrugging matter, this was important.

But he was starting to doubt himself now. He was beginning to think that he _had_ been imagining things this entire time. Maybe they really were on different levels, and he just thought that…

"Why now? After all this time, why choose now?"

She was angry with him. Her voice told him that much, though she wasn't yelling or raising her voice at him. She wouldn't yell, she never yelled at him, but sometimes he wished that she would. The pain in her voice when she talked like this was too much for him to handle. This pain was worse than any yelling.

"I don't know. I just… needed you to know… the truth," he replied, finding it hard to talk, much less breathe.

He watched her jump up from her seat as she cried, "The truth? I'm sorry, but how do I know that this is the truth? How do I know that you're not just… not thinking clearly because everything is about to change, and you don't want it to, because I'm about to-"

"Don't. Don't say it. If you say it, then it makes it all real," he whispered, cutting her off.

She was right. Everything was about to change. And he had to admit that he was scared for that. He didn't want their relationship to change, but he knew that it would. And her saying it, saying the words that he never wanted to hear, was just setting it in stone. And that was a nightmare for him. But that's not why he was telling her this. That really had nothing to do with it at all.

"Of course I'm telling you the truth! Do you want me to relive to you every moment that I've ever spent with you? Will that show you that what I told you is real? That what I'm feeling is real? I've known all along that there is something here. I know you know it too, I'm not just imagining things!" he yelled, his anger rising, because he was scared that he had just ruined everything. And when he got scared, he also got angry. It was a defense mechanism for him, one that he picked up at a very young age.

"No, Harry," she said, shaking her head. "Not every moment, just the most important moment, the one where everything changed. That's what I need to hear. You need to relive that for me. I need to hear all of it."

The tears had stopped, he could tell by the way that her voice sounded stronger instead of choking back on the tears, and it also sounded less angry.

He looked up at her, their eyes connecting once more, and her brown eyes gave him strength. They gave him confidence, as her eyes have always been able to do with him. And that proved to him that he wasn't going crazy, and that she had felt it too. All of his doubts vanished then, and he knew that everything was going to work out fine.

"Hermione," he sighed as he closed his eyes, willing his mind to bring him back to the time where everything changed for them.


	2. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer: If I had written Harry Potter, then this story would be how everything would have turned out. Unfortunately, I didn't write Harry Potter, so full credit goes to JK Rowling.**_

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><p>Harry Potter lay on his bed in Ronald Weasley's room at the Burrow. He was thinking hard, having just been awoken from a nightmare, about where tonight had gone wrong. Voldemort had found them, and as a result, Mad-Eye Moody was dead.<p>

Harry looked up at the ceiling, without really seeing the cracked, dusty wood. Instead he was replaying the night's events in his mind.

_Dudley apologizing as the Dursley's left; taking Hedwig around the now empty rooms of Number 4 Privet Drive, looking for some scraps of at least one happy memory; the blue eye in his two way mirror that looked so much like Professor Dumbledore's; the plan that called for seven Harry Potters; the death of his beloved owl and first friend; and then finally Voldemort's arrival._

It was almost like he was back there now, flying on the motorbike beside Hagrid. He could hear the Deatheaters yelling, and the voices of his friends as they defended themselves. Hermione's scream of terror as they had been attacked even echoed in his ears now.

And then once he and Hagrid had finally returned to the Burrow, he had seen Ginny, still as beautiful as ever, even though her eyes reflected her fear for her family and friends. Her presence brought him back to all of the times that they had spent under the birch trees at Hogwarts last year. How far away those memories seemed now.

Lupin returned with an injured George, and after establishing that he, Harry, was indeed the real Harry Potter, he and Lupin rushed outside, hearing someone's return. It was Kingsley and Hermione, who was fully herself now, and Hermione ran to him, throwing her arms around his neck in a hug.

She was trembling from head to foot, her entire body shaking with fear, and Harry wanted nothing more than to comfort his best friend, to praise her for her bravery, but no words were coming to his mind. He had no idea what to say to make her feel safe, so he simply held her close, until Ron returned and she broke free from Harry, and grasped onto their red-headed friend.

Harry watched as she gently removed the circle glasses from Ron's face, smiling up at him affectionately.

It was a sentimental moment between the two of them, one that Harry found himself becoming jealous of. He had known of Hermione and Ron's budding interest in each other for years. He knew that they were bound to get together sometime soon. He just hoped that one day he would find someone to share moments like the one that his best friends just shared with too. Strangely, his mind flashed back to all of the times that Hermione had repaired his own broken glasses. But those thoughts were broken when Bill returned with the news of Mad-Eye's murder.

And that brought Harry to where he was now, lying in bed, thinking of all of the people who had died for him, and how he didn't want that to happen ever again. No one else needed to die for him. He wouldn't stand for it, and he was not going to let that happen again.

So with that, Harry slipped out of bed, changed into a pair of jeans, and walked out of the house with his rucksack slung over his shoulder.

He didn't get far before he heard Ron's voice behind him. "Going somewhere?"

"Nobody else is going to die. Not for me," Harry replied, his voice shaking with each word before he turned around and started walking again, hearing Ron's footsteps behind him.

"For you? You think Mad-Eye died for you? You think George took that curse for you? You may be the Chosen One, mate, but this is a whole lot bigger than that. It's always been bigger than that," Ron said, his words making Harry stop and face him again.

After a moment of silence between the two, Harry said, "Come with me."

"What and leave Hermione? Are you mad? We wouldn't last two days without her!" Ron exclaimed, and Harry did have to agree with him there. He would get nowhere without Hermione. She was always the brains of the operation. What would she think of him if she had seen that he was trying to run away now?

"Besides, you've still got the trace on you, and we've still got the wedding-"

"But I don't care about a wedding, I'm sorry, no matter whose it is. I have to start finding these Horcruxes. They're our only chance to beat him and the longer we stay here the stronger he gets!" Harry cried.

"Tonight's not the night, mate," Ron told him, stepping closer, "You'd only be doing him a favor."

Harry stared at his best mate before sighing in defeat and dropping the rucksack on the ground, turning away from Ron, who bent down and picked up the bag, flinging it over his own shoulder. After a few more moments of silence, the two walked inside with Ron questioning the whereabouts of the Horcruxes.

As he placed the rucksack on the kitchen counter, Ron asked, "Are you coming up, or you gonna stay down here for a bit?"

"Stay," Harry answered shortly, and Ron nodded.

"Alright, night mate," he said before turning around and walking back up to his room.

Harry plopped down at the kitchen counter and rested his head in his hands, rubbing at his eyes. After a while, he got up and grabbed his rucksack, laying it down on the table in front of him and rummaging through one of the front pockets until he found what he was looking for: a sack of letters. They were from some of the most important people in his life offering him words of comfort and encouragement, words that got him through the hard times, and there was one in particular which he was searching for now, and he felt a sense of tremendous relief when he finally did find it.

The parchment was worn out and flimsy, the ink nearly faded away from him opening and closing it, and reading it all the time. He read it so often that he nearly had the words memorized, but he liked to look at the actual letter for a sense of comfort.

It was from Hermione, written during the summer after their second year. In it, she talked of how he had saved her life yet again, and how she felt so protected and safe whenever he was around. She promised him that no matter what happened between them, no matter what the situation was, she would always be there for him, in any way that he needed her.

This thought alone, this promise that she made, always got Harry through anything that was ever thrown at him. She was always with him, standing by his side through whatever problem he was faced with. She was his best friend in every sense of the word, never leaving him alone and sticking by him even when he was wrong.

Ron was right; he'd never make it anywhere without Hermione. If it weren't for her he'd probably be dead by now. She had saved his arse plenty of times, and he knew that he needed her to help him through this Horcrux hunt. Without her, he wouldn't know what to do. Without her, he would get nowhere.

"What are you reading, Harry?" a voice from the dark called out.

"Blimey, Hermione!" Harry exclaimed as he nearly fell out of his chair in fright.

Hermione walked out of the darkness and into the light, plopping herself down on the chair next to Harry's. She looked at the letter in his hands with a questioning stare, and he passed the parchment over to her, watching her face as she skimmed through it, recognizing it immediately and allowing a smile to play across her lips.

"You kept this?" she asked, amused.

"Did you mean it?" he questioned, not bothering to answer her question, which he assumed was rhetorical anyway.

Hermione nodded. "Of course. If I didn't mean it, I wouldn't be here now; I would have left ages ago. You saved my life so many times, Harry. I only hope that one day I'll be able to repay the favor," she told him.

"What are you talking about? You've saved my life more times than you know. You're practically my brain, Hermione. I listen to whatever it is that you tell me. I'm really a selfish person, Hermione. I don't want to put you in any more danger, but I need you to come on this Horcrux hunt with me. Because without you… I wouldn't have a clue," he admitted to her, averting his eyes from hers.

"Harry," Hermione sighed, shaking her head, and reaching over the table to cover his hand with hers. "I knew what I signed up for the day that I met you on the train our first year. I've know what this war was coming to for a long time, and there have been plenty of opportunities for me to pack my bags and walk away, but I've chosen where I want to be, and what I want to do. You're my best friend, Harry, and you need me, so I'm coming with you. You've told us millions of times that we should leave, but when have Ron or I ever listened to you about it? We've already decided that we're going with you. We're not backing out. I promise you that we are in this together, and we always will be," she finished, squeezing his hand.

"Where would I be without you?" Harry asked, squeezing her hand back, thinking about how her devotion to him was just absolutely incredible.

"Well, you definitely would not have passed your O.," Hermione said with a laugh while standing up.

Harry followed her lead, chuckling in return. He was always amazed at how Hermione could always bring light to a dark subject, and how she always had the ability to make people laugh.

"Come on, it's time for bed," she told him, holding out her hand for him and leading him upstairs, where they parted ways for the night, each of them feeling lighter, and a bit happier despite everything that was going on around them.

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><p><em><strong>Author's Note: I'm honestly writing like five stories right now. I have SO many ideas for SO many different stories in my head, and they just won't leave me alone. This is one of those ideas. It will be set both in bookverse and movieverse, cause I like both so much. Mostly movieverse though. Anyway, thank you for reading and giving this story a shot. Let me know what you think so far.<strong>_

_**Thank youuu for reading :)**_


	3. Chapter 2

_**Disclaimer: Harry Potter, its world and its characters, does not rightfully belong to me. I'm just simply borrowing them. All credit goes to J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers.**_

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><p>Hermione was looking all around the house for Harry. She hadn't been able to talk to him much last night after the birthday celebrations, and the surprise visit from the Minister of Magic. She had been up practically all night thinking about what, "I open at the close," could possibly mean, and she had come up with a few theories, of which she wanted to share with Harry. But for the life of her, she could not find him anywhere.<p>

She was just about to walk into the kitchen when she heard, "Zip me up, will you?" That was Ginny's voice, but who was she talking to?

Hermione peeked around the corner of the staircase and saw Harry slowly making his way towards Ginny, whose back was bare to him.

Well, there he was. She had found him at last. Of course, she had wanted to find him alone, but that was most certainly out of the question now. And now that she had found him, Hermione was torn between leaving and letting Harry have this moment with Ginny, which he desperately needed to have, and to stay and eavesdrop on them.

The latter won, and Hermione listened as Ginny said, "It seems sort of silly, doesn't it, a wedding in the midst of everything that's going on?"

Hermione disagreed with her. She thought that it was the perfect time for a wedding. It would be able to shed a little light on these so dark times that they were all going through.

And it seemed that Harry disagreed as well, for he said, "Maybe that's why it's such a good idea to have it, because of everything that's going on."

Hermione heard no more words exchanged between the two of them, so she peeked around the corner even more to see that they were kissing. She jumped back, away from the staircase, not wanting to snoop any further, only to hit something solid: Ron.

"What're you-"

"Sh!" Hermione commanded, and Ron peeked around the staircase in curiosity at what Hermione could have been spying on.

"What is he doing?" Ron whispered angrily, after seeing what his sister and his best friend were doing in his kitchen.

"Hush," Hermione scolded, pulling on his arm and leading him outside through the back door.

"What is he doing with my sister? He dumped her! Now he thinks he can go and mess her around any time he wants?" Ron practically shouted.

"Ron, you know that's not it," Hermione began.

"Then what is it?" he interrupted.

"You know why he ended it with her. It wasn't because he wanted to, but because he had to. Just leave it be. Harry deserves some happiness, don't you think?"

Ron just looked away from her.

"I have to go get ready. Can you just not say anything to Harry about it? Please, Ron," she begged, and he nodded and walked in the direction of the tent, grumbling all the way.

Hermione sighed and walked back into the house and up to the room that she was sharing with Ginny. She opened the door and immediately walked over to Ginny's closet where her dress was hanging. She took it out and looked into the mirror that was placed on the wall next to the closet, and jumped in fright as she noticed a figure sitting on the end of her bed.

"Harry!" she yelped, her hand resting over her now rapidly beating heart.

"I'm sorry, I didn't meant to frighten you," he apologized, though the corners of his mouth were twitching as he tried to fight off a smile.

"It's fine, it's alright. What are you doing in here? Are you okay?" she asked him.

"Fine, I guess. I just needed a hideout. The guests are starting to arrive and I'm not ready for all the 'Chosen One' talk just yet."

Hermione nodded in sympathy but then said, "I understand, Harry. But as you can clearly see, I'm not even remotely ready, so…"

"Please, Hermione? I'll stand in the corner. I won't look, I promise. I just… I need some quiet time for a bit, and I don't feel comfortable enough anywhere else," he pleaded with her, and Hermione sighed in response. She could never deny him anything, no matter how ridiculous the request.

"You don't have to stand in the corner, just cover your eyes. And if I so much as catch you peeking, Harry Potter, so help me Merlin, I will curse you into oblivion. Understand?"

She watched as his face lit up with a smile before covering it with his hands. Once she was positive that he couldn't see her, she slipped out of her clothes and into her red dress.

"Alright, I'm decent. You're free to open your eyes now," Hermione said with a laugh and Harry immediately opened his eyes on her command.

"Wow, Hermione, you look… beautiful," Harry said, his eyes wide as he looked at his female best friend.

"My hair's not even brushed yet, Harry," Hermione disagreed, shaking her head and lowering her eyes to the ground.

"It doesn't even have to be, Hermione. Really, you look great," he tried to convince her.

"Really? Well… well, thank you, Harry. You look quite dashing yourself," she said with a smile, looking back at him once more, and he returned her compliment with a smile of his own.

Hermione then went and sat down on the stool in front of the mirror, bringing with her a brush and some bobby pins.

"Ginny's looking beautiful today too, don't you think?" Hermione asked nonchalantly, looking at him in the glass.

"Are we about to have a girl talk, Hermione?" Harry chuckled.

"We might as well. What else are we supposed to talk about?" she laughed back.

"Ginny always looks beautiful," he then replied.

"That she does. I… uhm… I saw you two… before…" she trailed off, not really knowing why she was telling him this in the first place. She looked back at him to make sure that he wasn't angry with her for spying, and she could right away tell that he wasn't.

"I know," was all he said.

"You know? But how could you possibly know? I mean, I was hiding," she exclaimed.

"Hermione, after all that we've been through, all the time that we've spent together, I can always tell when you're close by. I can feel your presence whenever you're around," he told her with confidence, not feeling embarrassed at all to tell her this.

Hermione nodded. "I thought it was just me," she shrugged as she turned back to her hair, totally accepting of his answer, since she could do the same to him. She always knew when Harry was around. She was just so… attuned to him, she could pick him out anywhere.

"Definitely not just you."

"So, are you and Ginny… you know?" Hermione couldn't understand why she was feeling so flustered and wasn't able to find her words all of a sudden.

"No, er, well, not right now at least. It's just too dangerous to have that connection to her. And I don't want her coming with us. Maybe, if all of this ends, we can have a future together," Harry explained to her.

Hermione stood up and turned towards him. "There are no ifs about it, Harry. This _will_end_,__" _she assured him with a smile.

She then walked over to him and held out her hands towards him, which he took, allowing her to pull him to his feet. Without dropping his hands she said, "We will figure it all out. We always do," and Harry smiled at her, squeezing her hand in thanks.

With a nod towards the door, Harry dropped one of Hermione's hands, keeping a firm hold on the other one, and led her out to the marquee.

It was a comfort thing, the hand holding that went on between them. It gave them a sense of safeness and protection. Not to mention, Harry just enjoyed holding Hermione's hand. It was always so warm, no matter the weather outside. And just the feeling of having her near him, and having her hand in his, made Harry feel just that much stronger.

"I've never been to a wedding," he spoke up as they took their seats.

"I've only been to one. I was very young, so of course it was a Muggle wedding," she told him. "I was the flower girl," she then added, and Harry could tell that she was very proud of that fact.

"I'm sure you were a great one," he told her, causing her to grin widely at him.

"I've never been to a wizard wedding though, so technically this is my first one too."

"Glad we always get to share our firsts together," Harry joked, right before Ron came over and sat down next to them.

Someone reached over and tapped Hermione on the shoulder. The trio turned around in their seats and gaped at the man who was standing before them.

"Viktor!" Hermione gasped, her cheeks turning pink.

"You look vunderful, Hermy-own-ninny," Viktor Krum said, smiling brightly at her.

Harry raised his eyebrows at the man in front of him. The last time he had seen the famous Quidditch player was at the end of fourth year when he had given Hermione his address, telling her to write to him often.

"What are you doing here?" Ron asked him rudely, and Harry glared at his friend. It could get quite annoying the way that Ron always showed his jealousy.

"Fleur invited me," Krum responded. However, he did not get to say much more because the wedding march had started and the ceremony began.

Ginny and Gabrielle came out, looking beautiful in their matching bridesmaid dresses, and Ginny turned around and winked at Harry, bringing him back to stolen hours in abandoned corridors at Hogwarts.

Very quickly he was brought out of his daydreams by a sniff coming from next to him. Harry turned to look at Hermione, whose eyes were swimming with tears, and she beamed at him, seeming very happy indeed. Harry lightly grasped her hand, grinning back at her, as the minister announced Bill and Fleur as husband and wife.

The reception party went well on into the night. Everyone was happy, as if the nightmare going on around them had simply vanished for the time being, as if there wasn't an evil dark wizard determined to kill them all.

Harry walked back into the tent after going out for a breath of fresh air, and began clapping along as the married couple danced in the center of all of the guests. Harry looked around the tent and saw Hermione standing alone by the refreshment table, a small smile on her lips as she watched the guests having a good time. Harry searched around for Ron and found him standing a little ways off, staring at Hermione. Those two were hopeless. Harry was just about to head over to Ron and nudge him in the right direction when a ball of white light flew into the tent, announcing that the Ministry had fallen and that the Minister was dead.

Panic spread throughout Harry's mind as he looked for Hermione, Ginny and Ron. Deatheaters swarmed into the tent and the battle began.

"Ginny!" Harry cried as he saw that she was dueling her own Deatheater. He tried to make his way over to her, but Lupin caught him around the waist, telling him to go.

"Harry!" Hermione's terrified scream pierced his ears and immediately ran over to her. As soon as his hand wrapped around hers, she apparated them to safety, leaving the others behind to fend for themselves.

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><p><strong><em>Author's Note: With this chapter, I wanted to kind of show how close and comfortable Harry and Hermione are to each other, hence the whole her changing while he's in the room bit. He wasn't ready to go out and be The-Boy-Who-Lived in front of all of the guests yet, so of course he seeks out Hermione right away. She trusts him enough to know that he won't look while she's changing, and besides she has no shame with him anyway since they're already so comfortable with each other. Does that make any sense, and did that get conveyed well while you all were reading it? <em>**

**_Anyway, thanks to everyone who has reviewed and added this story to their alerts already. You all are great, and you have no idea how much I appreciate it. Let me know what you think about this chapter, love it, hate it, I'll take anything. I always love any kind of comment. As always, thanks for reading! :)_**


	4. Chapter 3

_**Disclaimer: Nothing has changed. I still don't own Harry Potter.**_

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><p>Harry awoke early the next morning while the sun was only just rising. After the Deatheaters attacked them at the café last night, Harry, Hermione, and Ron quickly fled to Grimmauld Place, deciding that it was the safest place for them to be for the time being.<p>

He was so worried about what was going to happen now, about what he was pulling Ron and Hermione into, and those thoughts kept him from sleeping. What if one of them got hurt or worse… No, Harry would not let himself think like that.

He needed to get his mind off of things, so he sat up from his bed on the couch and looked over to the sleeping forms of Ron and Hermione. Hermione's arm curled down towards the floor, and her fingers were only inches from Ron's. Harry wondered if they'd fallen asleep holding hands, and that thought stabbed at his heart.

He remembered Hermione's words from last night; "We're alone," she had said after establishing that no one else was in Grimmauld Place with them, and Harry agreed with her words now. He had never felt more alone. Ron and Hermione had each other. Ginny was safe with her family. His beloved owl was dead. He had no one left.

Of course, deep down he knew that that was not true, but that was how it felt. No one was around to help him anymore. His parents, Sirius, Dumbledore… gone. Ginny… nowhere near him to help him out of his misery. No even Hermione was there to help him, Hermione who had always been there for him, who was now more interested in Ron. She was slipping away so quickly…

He had to get out of that room. He couldn't be around the couple right now, who were happy in their dreams. It was too much for him to handle at the moment, so he wandered around the halls of Grimmauld until he wound up in Sirius's bedroom, where after searching around for a while he found a letter from Lily, and a picture of himself as a toddler flying around on a small broom. It wasn't long after until he heard his name being shouted by Ron and Hermione. He gathered that they had been searching for him after waking up to see his couch vacant.

He also reckoned that Hermione was frantic right now. And frantic she was. She threw open the door to Sirius's room and flung herself down on the floor next to him.

"Don't ever do that again!" she cried while shoving his arm with her hand, and Harry couldn't help but laugh, causing Hermione to join in as well. After a while, he handed her the picture of his baby self on the broom, and watched as a smile crossed her features.

"I feel like if I had a room to myself when I was growing up, this is what it would have looked like," he told her.

"I highly doubt that. Your room would be much tidier," she retorted.

"You've clearly never seen my dorm at Hogwarts then," Harry joked, but Hermione's face fell at the mention of their school, and Harry immediately felt guilty.

He had taken so much away from her in the past few months: her family, her school, her life. He hated it, hated what he was doing to her. For Hermione Granger, learning and getting an education was the most important thing in her life, and selfishly he took it away from her. Why couldn't he just do this on his own?

"Hermione, I'm so so-" But he couldn't finish his sentence before Hermione rolled up the picture of Harry as a baby and smacked him upside the head with it.

"Stop right there, Harry Potter. If I hear one more 'I'm sorry' escape your lips, I will personally see to it that you'll never be able to say those words again!" she shrilled, and Harry's eyes widened at her in surprise.

"I know that you're sorry, I know that you feel guilty for everything that ever happens, but how many times do I have to tell you that this is my choice before you actually understand? I don't regret any of my decisions that have brought me here today. Whether I was your friend or not, I still would have put my parents into hiding, I still wouldn't be going back to Hogwarts," she told him.

"Yeah, you say that now because you've already done it," Harry responded, looking away from her.

Hermione shook her head and grabbed Harry's face between her hands, forcing him to look at her.

"No, Harry. I say it because I mean it. I'm not in danger because I'm your friend. I'm in danger because of who I am. I'm Muggleborn, Harry. You-Know-Who wants me dead because of my bloodline, and because of the side I chose to fight on, not because I'm your friend," she said, her voice pleading with him to understand.

"But it certainly heightens the danger you're in by being around me," Harry pointed out, being completely stubborn.

"And you'd be in more danger without me around, Harry. You need me. Whether or not you think this is too dangerous for me doesn't matter. You need my help, so just let me stay without you feeling guilty that you've ruined my life," she paused, waiting for Harry to look at her again. It wasn't until his eyes connected with hers that she continued, "Because you haven't."

After a few seconds of searching her eyes for any sign of a lie, Harry smiled.

"You're amazing you are, Hermione," he told her with a cheeky green, forgetting all about apologies for the time being, and Hermione grabbed his hand as she allowed a faint chuckle to leave her mouth.

"Hey guys? I think I found something!" Ron's muffled voice came to them from one floor up.

Hermione got up off the floor, pulling Harry up with her and led him from the room to go find Ron. He was standing in an absolutely filthy bedroom. Dust covered every square inch of the room, in much thicker amounts than what was in Sirius's room.

"Lovely, Ronald," Hermione said as she turned around and share an amused look with Harry.

"No," Ron sighed shortly before stretching his arm past her and shutting the door, revealing to them what he really found. On the door was a gold frame that said very clearly the name: Regulus Arcturis Black.

The Trio looked at each other before they all said the words, "R.A.B."

"Hermione?" Harry asked through the bathroom door, where Hermione had locked herself only moments before. "Hermione, are you alright?"

"Fine!" came Hermione's muffled voice from behind the door, but Harry knew her better than that.

So, with a simple flick of his wand, and a silent "_Alohamora,__" _the bathroom door was opened and Harry stepped inside. To his surprise, there were no protests from Hermione about his invasion of personal space. She just let him walk in and shut the door behind him as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Harry saw that she was sitting on the edge of the bathtub with her arms wrapped tightly around her knees. And to his dismay, he also saw that she was crying. Silent tears flowed down her face.

Squaring his shoulders, Harry took a deep breath and sat down on the lid of the toilet across from his best friend. "What is it, Hermione? What's wrong?" he questioned softly, knowing that she would only talk once she was ready.

"It's just… oh, you'll think me so stupid!" she cried, looking away from him.

Harry took her chin between his pointer finger and thumb and gently turned her face towards him.

"Hermione, you are far from stupid, so just spit it out already," and Hermione couldn't help but chuckle. He never was the sentimental type.

"Kreacher," she said simply, and Harry understood immediately.

They had just got done sending Kreacher to search for the thief, Mundungus Fletcher, after listening to the elf's heart wrenching tale of what Voldemort made him and his master do. It affected Harry deeply, he felt awful for the house elf and how he, Harry, had treated him in the past. He was sure that Ron felt the same way, if only a little less. But of course Hermione would be the most affected by it. Hermione, who had spent a good deal of time since their fourth year fighting for house elf rights, would be hurt in a way that was completely different from the two boys.

"I know, I feel awful for him too. That's why I'm going to start treating him better, from this point on. He deserves it," Harry told her truthfully, resting his hand on her shoulder.

"Oh, Harry, I know you are. You've already started by giving him the fake locket," Hermione said, a small smile replacing her frown.

"Well, he's had a horrible life, it was the least I could do. I will start treating him better, Hermione, because, well quite honestly I want to make you proud."

The words were out of his mouth before he even had a chance to think about them. But that didn't make them any less true. All his life, all Harry wanted to do was make someone proud of him. He wanted to know what that would feel like, because he had never known. The Dursley's never gave any inkling that they were proud to have him as their nephew and cousin. When he was younger, before Hogwarts, Harry would have given anything to hear his aunt and uncle say, "Good job, Harry, we're so proud of you," but after a while he knew that it was useless. He would never make them proud, would never feel the rush of praise. And so, he gave up trying to make people proud, until Hermione came around that is. She was just so good, and smart, that Harry never wanted to disappoint her.

These words sobered Hermione up completely. Her tears went away, only to be replaced by a blank stare.

"You think I'm not proud of you?" she whispered, feeling absolutely horrified.

"No, I didn't, I mean, I don't know. No one's ever been proud of me before," he admitted, messing up his words as he did so.

"Harry… I am SO proud of you. You've done so much, had to face things that no seventeen year old should ever have to face. You've done your best at everything you've ever set your heart to. You're an amazing person, Harry Potter. There's nothing you could do that would ever make me stop being proud of you," Hermione told him, grasping both of his hands in hers.

"I just… I've never really known… what's it like to hear anyone say that to me," he admitted to her.

"Harry, trust me when I tell you that there are many people who are proud of you. Remus and Tonks, the Weasley's, Kingsley, Sirius was, and Dumbledore too. And, I know that if your parents could see you now, they would be brought to their knees with pride. Their hearts would swell with it," she responded, and Harry squeezed her hands in response, a few tears leaking out of his eyes.

"I know, but more than that, it's only really been you who I've wanted to hear those words from. Everyone else doesn't really matter, except for you."

"Harry," Hermione sighed before pulling him into a hug.

"I am, and I will always, be proud of you. Nothing will ever change that."

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><p><em><strong>Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who keeps on adding the story to their alerts :) It's completely amazing of you. Let me know what you thought of this chapter. It's pretty straight forward, once again showing their closeness. <strong>_

_**As always, thank you for reading, and keep on letting me know what you think :)**_


	5. Chapter 4

_**Disclaimer: Harry Potter's world and characters are not rightfully mine. I am just borrowing them for my own, and hopefully others, enjoyment.**_

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><p>Harry was awake, and sitting at the piano in the living room of Grimmauld Place. They would be heading to the Ministry in the morning, and though they had gone over the plan a million times, and Harry acted confident, he was really quite nervous. With a deep breath, Harry ran his fingers over the piano keys and started quietly playing Fur Elise.<p>

"You know how to play?" Hermione's voice called out from behind him, and surprisingly he was not startled by her. He just nodded his head and continued to play as she came over and sat down next to him. With a small smile on her face, Hermione placed her fingers on the keys and started to play along with him.

"Ron could never get the hang of this," she whispered when they had finished, more to herself than to him, and Harry just pretended as if he didn't hear it.

"You should get some sleep, big day tomorrow," she told him, turning to look into his eyes.

"Tried already, can't sleep," Harry replied while moving over to the couch, and Hermione quickly followed.

"You look like you could get some sleep as well, Hermione," Harry said sternly as she sat down opposite him on the other cushion.

"Tried already," she replied. "Just like you can't, I can't either. I try so hard, Harry, and I'm so tired, but I just… I just can't sleep."

"Nightmares?" Harry whispered.

"A few, mostly just this feeling of fear. We've been through some rough patches together, Harry, but nothing has scared me this much," she admitted, and Harry watched as a tremor shook through her body. Quickly he moved closer to her and pulled his best friend into his arms.

"I know, I'm scared too, Hermione," he whispered into her hair. "But, we're going to be fine tomorrow, and on the whole rest of this hunt too. I won't let anything happen to you."

"That's what I'm afraid of," she said, muffling her voice into his shoulder.

"Sorry?"

Hermione pulled her head away from his shoulder so that she could look him square in the eye.

"I know that you won't let anything happen to me, or to Ron, but how do I know you won't go do something irrational to keep anything from harming us. How do I make sure that nothing happens to _you?_"

After a moment's hesitation, Harry replied. "You'll just have to trust me. You trust me, don't you?"

"With my life," she responded quietly.

"I'm not going to do anything irrational, Hermione. You don't have to worry about me. I'm not the stupid 11-year-old boy you once knew. I'm smarter now, more mature," he said with a wink.

"This is serious, Harry," Hermione scolded him, even though she had a small smile on her face.

"I know, and I am being serious. I won't let anything happen to you, and I won't do something rash and jeopardize myself, alright?" he prompted, and he watched as she slowly nodded her head.

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><p>The Trio was holed up in a tiny, musty tent in the middle of a forest. Hermione was mending Ron's splinched arm, and when she wasn't tending to his wounds or applying new bandages, she was sitting by his side on one of the uncomfortable wooden chairs that the tent had supplied, holding tight to his hand. It reminded Harry of last year after Ron had been poisoned and Hermione grasped hold of his hand while he whispered her name in a moment of vulnerability as he lay asleep on one of the Hospital Wing beds. Of course Lavendar had run out of the Hospital Wing right after, and Harry looked on as a smile couldn't help but spread over Hermione's face.<p>

They had a close call at the Ministry, a very close call indeed, and Harry couldn't help but shake his head in guilt. It was stupid of them to act so quickly. He should have known how unprepared they were. They were not nearly ready enough to go head on into the Ministry and attack Dolores Umbridge. But somehow, thankfully, they were successful, with only one slight injury.

But there was something that Harry saw while in the Ministry that he couldn't shake, more specifically something in Umbridge's office.

Hidden in the top desk drawer was a stack of papers that looked very much like wanted posters, and they were all of people that Harry held dear to him. The papers were made up with a picture and a profile, there were five altogether, three of which had big red "X's" through them: Mad-Eye, Sirius, and Dumbledore. Then there was one of Arthur Weasley, and… Hermione. The picture was of her in her school robes sitting on the best windowsill of Gryffindor Tower. She was laughing and shaking her head, probably at something that he or Ron had said.

At the time, the picture and her profile made Harry worried. Now, as he sat outside of the tent, it made his blood boil.

He had always known deep down that Hermione and Ron were wanted by Deatheaters, but the fact that Hermione's wanted picture was made by Umbridge, someone who was supposed to be working for the Ministry, made him sick. The reality that his friends were in danger came crashing down on him, suffocating him until he was swallowed whole by it. This was real. They were really hunting for Horcruxes, there really was a war going on, and he really was very close to the final meeting between him and Voldemort.

"Oh God," he cried out, the weight of the world forcing his head down into his hands.

"Harry?" Hermione called, poking her head out of the tent.

_How __did __she __always __know __when __he __was __feeling __miserable?_ "I'm fine," he responded absently.

"I wasn't going to ask, but now you've given me probable cause to. What's wrong?" she said, coming completely out of the tent now. She was wrapped in a wool blanket, and she immediately covered half of it over Harry as she sat next to him.

"Nothing," he replied dryly, causing Hermione to roll her eyes and mutter an exasperated, "Harry."

"How do you always know?"

"Know what?"

"Know when something's wrong."

"I know you, Harry. You're my best friend," she answered simply, as if it was nothing.

"Seriously, Hermione? I'm going to need a little more than that," Harry replied, looking straight at her.

"I don't know what else you want. You're my best friend, my first friend at that. How do I always know when something's wrong? It's not like you have a 'something's-wrong-with-Harry,' face, so don't worry, your mask isn't breaking, and you're just as good at the poker face as you always have been. I just… I don't know, Harry, it might make me strange for saying, but I really do just _know_. I can feel it. I don't know what else you want from me," she said, her voice low and quiet and a little hesitant.

"You're the only one I can't hide from, and I don't really know how I feel about that," he admitted, looking away from.

"You shouldn't have to hide from anyone, Harry, and I never ever want you to feel like you need to hide from me. I get it, I do, sometimes you just need to keep your guard up, you don't want to let everyone in because the more people you let in, the more people there are who can hurt you. But I am here for you, Harry, you can talk to me about anything. You can come to me when you're sad, angry, lonely, happy, courageous, anything and I will always be there for you. Just promise me that you won't ever hide from me," she pledged to him.

"You hide from me," he countered.

"I don't. I've never hidden anything from you. If you just looked a little closer, you'd know," she whispered, and with that she got up and walked back into the tent, leaving the blanket half covering Harry, and half dangling off of him.

He had even more to think about now that she had gone back inside. What did she mean by that? He just always assumed that people were hiding things from him. That was the way that he had grown up, that was what he had been taught. The Dursley's, Dumbledore, his friends. No one had trusted him with the truth, so naturally he didn't trust them back. He didn't even trust Ron fully, for he had left Harry alone so many times.

But Hermione… she was different. As Harry thought about it now, it dawned on him that Hermione was the only one who was ever straight with him. She told him the truth, and was always the first one to step up and tell him when something bad was going on. But did she really never hide from him the way that he hid from everyone else? It was hard to tell, seeing as no one ever really showed their true self to him, but he supposed that if he had to bet on it, he'd wager that Hermione really didn't keep anything from him.

Harry jumped up from his sitting position and lunged toward the tent. He had to apologize to her. He knew at that moment in time that he had hurt her feelings, and he needed to make up for it, and to show her that she was right, and promise that he would never hide from her ever again. It was only fair, and they were best friends after all.

But when he got inside the tent, he saw that Ron was awake and Hermione was seated by his bed, holding a cup of tea in one hand and clutching Ron's hand in the other. At the sound of his hasty entrance, Hermione faced him, a light smile on her face.

"I know," was all she said before turning back around, and Harry knew in that moment in time that she forgave him. Because like Hermione had said before, she just _knew_ him, and Harry could honestly say that the feeling was absolutely mutual. He knew her, he supposed that he always had it just took him this much time to figure it out.

With a smile and a nod, Harry pulled up a chair and scooted next to Ron's bed. By the look of pain on Ron's face, he knew that it was going to be a long night, but the three of them would get through it together. And then tomorrow they would be on their way to figuring out how to destroy the locket. And soon, the war would be over, and everything would be well again.

It was funny how Harry's thoughts took a complete turn from what he was thinking and feeling earlier. But he would give in to it for now, if only just for one night.

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><p><em><strong>Author's Note: <strong>__**I really don't have much to say about this chapter other than as it was shown, one of the underlying themes of this story is that Harry and Hermione never have to hide from each other, and that they never should, hence the title. This will definitely be shown more in further chapters to come. On a different note, thank you so so so much to everyone who has added this story to their alerts and have reviewed. It means so much to me, you have no idea :)**_


	6. Chapter 5

_**Disclaimer: Same as it always is. Harry Potter is not rightfully mine.**_

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><p>He felt like he spent all of his time shouting at Hermione these days. He was tired and hungry and defeated. They hadn't moved from this one location in weeks. Ron wasn't getting any better, and they weren't any closer to figuring out how to destroy the locket, let alone find any of the other Horcruxes. He spent most of his time with Hermione, so naturally it would be she who he took his anger out on. He felt bad about it afterward, of course, and he hated being rude, especially to her, but this damn locket… even when he wasn't wearing it, it had him in a foul mood.<p>

On one particularly dreary afternoon, Harry again found himself feeling angry and jittery. He felt as if he was being watched, and his head pounded from further visions into Voldemort's mind. He wanted to move, to get out of this spot and do some good, to- And there goes Ron with that blasted radio again, trying to tune into the station that would list off the names of more who had died, who had fought for their lives while Harry was sitting here, hiding out in the woods.

He and Hermione had argued over this just yesterday. She had said that it calms Ron down so just let him be. Well good for bloody, stupid Ron, always getting his way.

"Blast!" Harry shouted while kicking out at the leaves and getting up. He couldn't stand to sit here anymore. He needed to walk, to run, to fight, to do anything that would just get the anger out of him.

So he did just that.

He raced to the edge of their magical boundaries, and then shot spell after spell after spell at one of the evergreen trees in the clearing until one of the branches came completely off.

"That won't really help, you know."

"I can't stand it here, Hermione. We need to move," he groaned without turning around to look at her.

"You know we can't, Harry. Ron-"

"Damn, Ron!" Harry shouted, shooting another "Stupefy!" at the tree.

"That tree is not going to help relieve your anger. Turn around, Harry," she growled at him.

He did as he was told, and saw a fierce look in Hermione's eye, one that he had never seen there before, but one that he knew what it meant right away.

"No way, I'm not going to fight you," he shook his head at her.

"Why not? I guarantee that I can give you a better fight than that tree ever could. Come on, have a go," she challenged.

_Why was she acting like this?_ And then Harry saw it: a glint of gold around her neck. The locket affected them all in different ways. Apparently it was making Hermione absolutely mental.

"Take it off, Hermione," he told her, but she just shook her head. "Give it to me," he added, a little harsher, stepping towards her.

"No, it's not your turn," she argued, but as he took another step closer, she whipped out her wand and shouted, "Stupefy!"

"Protego!" Harry yelled quickly, blocking her spell, before sending a silent curse at her feet, blowing the leaves up into her face.

They continued to shoot spells at each other, laughing all the while. They danced around each other, aiming to trip the other, and to relieve some stress, but never to actually harm.

Eventually, Hermione unsurprisingly won the battle, tripping Harry and causing him to fall to the ground. A second later she plopped down next to him, taking the locket off and putting it in her pocket. They both deserved a moment of freedom from its impending darkness.

"How old are we, Hermione?" Harry asked with a chuckle.

"Seventeen," she responded.

"I just felt like I was eleven again," he said, the smile on his face evident in his voice.

Hermione nodded fervently, looking over at Harry. "I did too."

"Hermione, you know we have to move," Harry started, hoping that now that she was in a good mood he might be able to convince her that it was time for them to leave.

"Harry, please don't start this now. I feel great for once. Let me enjoy it. We'll move soon, I promise, just please, please let me indulge in this moment," she pleaded with him, and there was no way that Harry could disagree.

"Alright, Hermione, you're right. Let's let loose for once," he said, while reaching over and tickling her side.

Hermione shrieked in laughter and shouted for him to stop in between laughs. But Harry would not stop. He leaned over her completely, putting all of his weight on his knees so that he could tickle her with both of his hands. Hermione shrieked some more, tears pouring out of her eyes from laughing so hard and tried to push his hands away.

"Harry, stop, I can't breathe!" She cried out, and Harry quickly pulled away allowing her to catch her breath. However, Hermione had a different idea in mind.

She shoved him to the ground and attacked his sides with her fingers, giving him pay back. Harry immediately started laughing just as Hermione had only moments before.

"Hermione, stop it!" he cried out, trying to catch his breath.

"It's only fair, Potter," she retorted, tickling him even harder.

"What is going on here?" a voice came from above them.

Right away, Hermione stopped tickling Harry and jumped up and away from him. Harry stood up, brushing himself off, and looked into the eyes of Ron, who seemed to be trying very hard to mask his jealousy.

"Ron, we were just letting ourselves enjoy a childish moment. Got carried away. It was silly, really," Hermione explained, and Harry fervently nodded, hoping and praying that Ron wouldn't see it as something else entirely.

"Course, cause we're in the middle of a war, and we have time for such things as acting like a child. Can we get back to strategizing and being useful now, please?" he growled, and Hermione responded with a quick, "Of course!" and together the three of them traveled back to the tent in a tense silence.

That night, as Ron slept and Hermione took the first watch, Harry lay awake in his cot, thinking about this afternoon. It had been a while since he had felt that good and that alive. It gave him hope for the future. He hoped that if he made it out alive that his life would be as carefree as this afternoon was.

It was amazing how Hermione always had such a way of putting a smile on his face, how she was always able to put him in a good mood, even when he was feeling so angry. She could lift his spirits in a heartbeat, and make him forget about the everlasting doom that was weighing them down. And he wanted to thank her for that, so he quietly got out of bed and made his way outside, where there was no sign of Hermione out there at all.

A moment of sheer panic coursed through Harry's body as he spun around looking for her… until he heard a rustling sound to his right and followed the trail straight to her. She was standing stock still, holding her breath, as a man stood right in front of her, staring straight at her. The man stood there for a moment more, a confused expression on his face, until he turned around and walked away. That's when Harry chose to move up next to her.

"Snatchers," he told her simply before adding, "Glad to know your protective enchantments work, Hermione."

She nodded, not looking at him. "He could smell it: my perfume," she told him, her voice choking back tears.

Harry put a hand on her elbow and gently turned her around back towards the tent. "Come on, let's get you back," he whispered, keeping his hand on her arm for reassurance.

After a moment of silence, Harry took a breath and said, "Now you see that we have to move."

"I told you, Harry, Ron's not strong enough to Apparate!" Hermione said, feeling like it was the thousandth time that she had said that.

"I know, so we'll have to go on foot. It's not safe here, Hermione, especially with Snatchers around," he told her, hoping to make some progress.

Hermione looked at him from the corner of her eye and slowly nodded. He was right of course. It wasn't safe here.

"Alright, we'll set out tomorrow morning," she agreed in defeat, still worried about Ron's well-being.

"Good, glad we finally agree," he said with a chuckle, and as they neared the tent he added, "And as much as I love your perfume, Hermione, just don't wear it next time."

Hermione looked over at him full on now, wearing a look that said that she was clearly annoyed, yet also amused, and Harry snorted at her.

"That's a good look for you, Hermione. You should wear your face like that all the time," he laughed with a wink before re-entering the tent, leaving Hermione to sputter at him from behind, unable to get in a comeback.

Nighttime came and went quickly, and bright and early they packed away the tent, took down all of the protective wards (after checking to make sure the coast was clear, of course) and set off for Merlin knows where.

It was hard to keep track of where they were, of where they were going, of what day and time it was. Everything seemed to blur together as they walked… and walked… and walked. They never stopped walking, except for when night came and they had to set up camp and sleep, until the sun rose and they set off again.

Ron watched as Hermione stepped away from him, pulling a water bottle out of her backpack and handing it to Harry. His eyes grew dark as Harry took it from her gratefully and sipped from it.

"I'm hungry," Ron blurted out.

Harry and Hermione stopped walking and turned around to look at him. "We've only got a few more hours until nightfall, and then we can all eat," Hermione told him, looking at him with a confused expression on her face.

"I don't understand why we can't just stop now. I'm tired, Hermione! My arm hurts. I'm injured, remember? And I'm starving. And I'm tired of walking endlessly, not knowing where we're going! Harry doesn't know the way!" Ron shouted, pretending like Harry wasn't standing two feet away, listening to his every word.

"Ron, take the locket off," Harry told him calmly, not letting his words have any effect on him. _It's just the locket talking, just the locket._

Immediately, Ron pulled the gold chain over his head, almost as if he had been waiting for the order all day. He felt an immense weight being lifted off of him, feeling much lighter than a moment before.

He looked over at Hermione and that feeling went away. She was staring at Harry, and he was staring back. They were having one of those moments, the one where they were having a silent conversation, one that would never make itself known to the rest of the world. Almost as quickly as it started, it ended and Harry turned around and led the way once more.

"I'm still hungry," Ron grumbled before following after him, and it was a second later that Hermione followed him.

The next few hours went by slowly, until they finally called it quits for today and set up camp next to a river. Hermione went out along her magical boundaries to try and find some food, Ron went straight to his cot to lie down, and Harry sat down at their little wood table, the Marauders Map laid out in front of him, Ginny's dot safely standing still in the Gryffindor Girls common room.

Hermione came inside; a few mushrooms bundled up in her arms, and got to work on a soup. Ron didn't join them at the table that night. Instead he chose to stay in his bed, grumpy as he ever was.

"You need a haircut, Harry," Hermione blurted out, looking at his unruly hair. It had grown fast in the last couple of months.

"Well, thanks for the advice Hermione, but seeing as I'm not going to have any time to go to a barber shop-"

"I could do it. It's not that hard. It's growing into your eyes, and soon you won't be able to see. Not like you can really see anything already, your eyesight is awful," she said, chuckling, and Harry stuck his tongue out at her. It was always easy to act like a child when she was around.

"Yeah, alright, I'll take the haircut then."

Hermione got up and pulled out her wand, leading Harry over to the small chair that sat in a forgotten corner of the tent. Harry sat down, and let Hermione get straight to work. They sat in comfortable silence. Harry didn't want to speak for fear that Hermione would mess up and chop off a whole section of hair. And a moment went by when he feared that she actually did, for she cried out, "Oh my god," and then got up and walked away.

"What?" Harry cried, his hands immediately flying to the back of his head. Nothing felt wrong there…

"I'll tell you in a minute," she told him, her voice coming from the section of the tent that housed their tiny table, and Harry followed her, saying, "Maybe you could tell me now…"

"The sword of Gryffindor; it's goblin made," she stated, as if that made perfect sense.

"Brilliant," Harry said, giving her two thumbs up, clearly having no idea what she was talking about, but wanting to make it sound like he did.

Hermione chuckled and shook her head. "No, you don't understand. Dirt and blood have no effect on the blade. It only takes in that which makes it stronger." She slid him one of her history books, proving her point to him.

"O…kay…," Harry said, still not quite understanding.

"Harry, you already destroyed one Horcrux, right? Tom Riddle's diary in the Chamber of Secrets!" Hermione nearly shouted, wanting him to understand so badly.

"Yeah, with a Basilisk fang," he told her, shaking his head. "If you mean to tell me you've got one of those hidden in that bloody beaded bag of yours…"

"Don't you see? You used the sword to stab the Basilisk in the Chamber. Its blade is impregnated with Basilisk venom," she explained, and Harry was finally starting to see.

"It only takes in that which makes it stronger! The sword can destroy Horcruxes."

"That's why Dumbledore left it to you in his will."

"You are brilliant, Hermione, truly," he praised her, covering her hand in his for a second to emphasize his point and show her his thanks.

"Actually, I'm highly logical, which allows me to look past extraneous detail, and perceive clearly that which others overlook" she denied.

"There's only one problem with this-" he started, but just then, all of the lights in the tent went out, submerging them in darkness.

"The sword was stolen," Ron's voice came from the dark before he clicked his Deluminator and the lights came back on. "Yeah, I'm still here. But you two carry on, don't let me spoil the fun." His voice was dark and angry, taking Harry and Hermione both by surprise.

"What's wrong?" Harry sighed, turning to face Ron on the bench.

"Wrong? Nothing's wrong. Not according to you, anyway."

"Well you've obviously got a problem, so whatever it is, spit it out," said Harry.

"Alright, I'll spit it out. Don't expect me to start skipping up and down the tent just because there's some other damn thing we've got to find!" Ron nearly shouted. "Let's just add it on to the list of things that you don't know."

Hermione's breath caught in her throat and Harry's eyes widened at Ron's words. All his feelings of dread that had momentarily gone away at their realization came flooding back. He had feared for a while now that they had doubted his leadership. Hell, he doubted himself really. But that didn't mean it didn't hurt to hear the truth start to slip out.

"I don't know? _I_ don't know?"

"Don't get me wrong, it's not like I'm not having the time of my life here," Ron said, the sarcasm evident in his voice, "you know, with my arm all torn up and nothing to eat and freezing my backside off every night. I just hoped, you know, that after we've been running around for a few weeks, we'd have achieved something."

"I thought you knew what you'd signed up for," Harry growled, and Ron responded with a, "Yeah, I thought I did too."

"Well, I'm sorry, I don't quite understand. What part of this isn't living up to your expectations?" Harry got up from his seat and moved to face Ron. "Did you think we'd be staying in five-star hotels? Finding a Horcrux every other day! Did you think you'd be back with your mum by Christmas?"

"I just thought after all this time, we would have actually gotten somewhere! We thought you knew what you were doing! We thought Dumbledore had told you what to do, that he left you with a real plan!"

"I told you everything Dumbledore told me!" Harry countered. "And in case you haven't noticed, we have found a Horcrux already." He gestured toward the golden locket resting once more around Ron's neck.

"Yeah, and we're about as near as getting rid of it as we are to finding the rest of them – nowhere effing near!"

"Ron take it off," Hermione pleaded finally stepping in between them, and Harry felt very grateful that she was jumping in to help him. She tried to grab the Horcrux from around his neck, but Ron just shoved her away. This didn't discourage her from her task though, she tried again. "Please take it off. You wouldn't be saying any of these things if you hadn't been wearing it for most of the day." He shoved her away again, however.

"Yeah, he would. Don't pretend I haven't noticed the two of you whispering behind my back. I've known for a long time that he's been thinking this stuff," Harry told her. He knew it was true now, that they had both been doubting him.

"Harry, no it's not like that," Hermione began, but Ron cut her off.

"Don't lie!" he shouted at her. "Don't stand there and pretend that you didn't say it too. You said you were disappointed, you agreed that you thought he'd have a bit more to go on than-"

"I didn't say it like that. Harry, please, I didn't!" Hermione pleaded with him to understand, and Harry felt hollow and empty inside hearing these words.

"So why are you still here?" Harry asked, ignoring Hermione and turning to Ron.

"Search me."

"Then why don't you just go home."

"Yeah, maybe I will! Do you want to know why I listen to that radio every night? To make sure I don't hear Ginny's name, or Fred, or George, or Mum," Ron told him, the fear for his family coming out very strong in his voice.

"You think I'm not listening too? You think I don't know how this feels?" Harry shouted, gesturing like a mad man. How could he even think for a minute that Harry wasn't concerned for the Weasley's? They were his family too.

"No you don't know how it feels! Your parents are dead. You have no family," Ron spat, and Harry lunged at him.

He didn't get very far, however, because Hermione cast a shield charm in between them, leaving Hermione and Harry on one side, and Ron glaring on the other.

All Harry wanted right now was for Ron to leave. He felt a poisonous hatred for Ron. Their friendship was broken.

"Leave the Horcrux," was all Harry said, and Hermione whipped her head towards him as Ron ripped the Horcrux from his neck and cast it aside onto his cot. He then turned towards Hermione.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"I- what?"

"Are you staying, or going?"

Hermione whipped her head back and forth, the anguish she was feeling evident on her face. "Ron, I… Yes, yes I'm staying. Ron we promised we'd go with Harry, we'd said we'd help-"

"I get it. You choose him," Ron interrupted, grabbing his rucksack and swinging it over his shoulder before quickly exiting the tent.

Hermione quickly removed her Shield Charm and chased after him, shouting out his name.

"Ron, no! Please, Ron, come back! Don't go!"

Harry listened to her cries, but did nothing to try and help her. He wanted Ron gone. He never wanted to see him again. He felt guilty at thinking that, but only for Hermione's sake. However, Hermione's sake wouldn't be enough for him to reconcile anything with his former friend.

He was no longer considered a brother to Harry. Brother's wouldn't abandon each other. Brother's wouldn't doubt each other. So much for that.

Harry climbed onto his bed and looked up at the ceiling. He listened as Hermione's anguished sobs faded into the sound of the rain that had just started pelting down against the tent. Funny that it would be raining now. It's almost as if the weather matched his emotions exactly. The rain was sad, symbolizing no hope and gloomy days ahead, and Harry could truly say for the first time during this journey that he had no hope left within him.

It had vanished along with the friendship of his best friend.

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><p><em><strong>Author's Note: Hello there! Hope everyone had good holidays :) So, I did take dialogue from both the movie and the book in this chapter. I loved how both scenes were done, and wanted to incorporate some parts of both in this scene. Let me know what you all think. And a HUGE thank you to everyone who has already done so, and who have also added this story to their alerts. I appreciate so so much. And thank you for reading :)<strong>_


	7. Chapter 6

_**Disclaimer: Same as always**_

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><p>Harry awoke the next morning feeling more tired now than he was before he went to sleep. The tent was empty, and he feared that Hermione had come to her senses and followed after Ron. But to his immense relief, she didn't. He found her standing outside by the river, probably thinking of how Ron taught her how to skip rocks there, dazed and oblivious to the world. He began packing up the tent himself, wanting to get away from this dreadful place as quickly as possible. Soon, Hermione moved along with him, taking down the wards, before Harry lightly took her hand and disapparated out of this area to the next one.<p>

As soon as they got there, Hermione dropped his hand and wiped at her eyes, leaving Harry to set up all of the wards, unable to comfort her. It was always hard to comfort Hermione. Whenever she was upset, he always feared that he would make it worse instead of better. He was vaguely aware of Hermione moving into the tent, wiping at her eyes once more.

_Please don't leave me, Hermione_, he caught himself thinking. He knew now that she doubted him as well, and that was a complete blow to him. He was always sure that Hermione would never abandon him, that she would always be by his side, but now he wasn't so sure. The boy she loved had walked out on them, and he wondered how long it would take her to follow him. It was hard to stay away from the one you loved.

As he finished up the enchantments, he heard the sound of the radio being turned on, and sighed. He assumed Hermione would pick up where Ron left off, however he was thoroughly surprised when he heard the sound of music wading out from inside the tent. Harry walked in and saw Hermione sitting on the steps next to Ron's cot, her head resting on her knees, tears flowing freely from her eyes, and Harry hated Ron even more right now for how his leaving was hurting Hermione.

Hermione didn't deserve to feel this kind of pain. She was too good a person for that. And he wanted to help her. So he did the first thing that came to mind. He got up slowly and made his way over to her, offering her his hands. With a skeptical look, Hermione took his hands, showing how much she still trusted him, and allowed him to pull her to her feet. Slowly and gently, his hands moved to the back of her neck, where his cold fingers worked at undoing the clasp and removing the locket from around her neck. He then uncaringly cast it aside and slid his hands back down into Hermione's, leading her to the middle of the tent.

He moved their arms back and forth, starting to move her in an awkward dance. Eventually, she couldn't help but smile a little and return the movement. They both started to move, spinning each other around, and dancing freely. Though neither one of them were good dancers, Harry especially, they didn't have to hide from one another; there was no judgement between them. They laughed as both of them twirled around the room, tripping over their own feet, creating their own little dance. The song shifted and became slower, and as the song did, so did their dance. Harry pulled her closer and rested his chin on her shoulder; Hermione did the same. They swayed on the spot, and let the song consume them.

"Harry?" Hermione whispered, afraid to break the moment.

"Hm?"

"Why does this feel so right?" She questioned, a note of worry evident in her voice.

Harry didn't bother to pull away from her as he answered, "Because this is right, Hermione. It's natural."

The words had just come out before he could even think about them, but just like their dancing felt right, so did the words. And the more he thought about it, the more he knew that it really was natural. If there was no Voldemort, no death hanging over their heads, if they were just living a normal life, they wouldn't be forced to take up relationships with Ron and Ginny. Ginny was fun and energetic. She was normal, and that was what Harry liked about her. She let him forget, for a while at least, who he was and what he had to do. But with Hermione… he never had to forget with her, because she was always there to pick him up. She never let him drown in his inner turmoil. She never let him forget who he was because to her he was, "Just Harry."

As the last few notes of the song ended, and their bodies slowly moved apart, another very natural thing happened. Neither knew who initiated it, but somehow their lips were touching, and then they were moving together in a kiss full of love and friendship. It wasn't one of those kisses that made the world stop turning. Sparks did not fly from their lips as soon as they connected, nor did either of them see stars. It was simple, and that's probably why it was so enjoyable for both of them.

As they pulled apart, smiles on both of their faces, Hermione said, "This changes things, doesn't it?" to which Harry shook his head and replied, "Nothing is changing, because this is how it's always been. I'm Harry, and you're Hermione, and that's how things are. Like I said, it's natural." And Hermione couldn't help but absolutely agree with him.

"So we just… take it as it comes?" she asked next, and Harry nodded as he took her in his arms again and twirled her to the next tune that come on the radio.

They danced the night away, forgetting about Ron, about Voldemort and the war. For the first time they were just two teenagers, starting a romance and having a good time. And when they grew tired of dancing, they were just two best friends reminiscing on the good times in their life. They would start a story with, "Do you remember when...?" and the other would burst into laughter at the memory and nod their head, and this continued until both were wiping at their eyes and clutching their stomachs. The memory of Professor Lockhart setting Cornish pixies on their second year Defense Against the Dark Arts class was what sent them over the edge.

"Hey, Hermione?" Harry breathed out as the two finally caught their breath and their laughter subsided.

"Yeah?"

"What was your childhood before Hogwarts like?" he asked tentatively, knowing that this question would undoubtedly lead to her thinking about her parents, which was sort of a taboo subject now.

Hermione was silent for a moment before she answered. "It wasn't all that great, to be honest. I mean, my home life was. My parents loved me unconditionally, even though I was an odd one from the beginning. I hated wearing dresses, to my mum's dismay, and I always chose playing with chemistry sets over playing with dolls, but despite all that, they loved me anyway and encouraged all of my interests. But my school and social life… it was much like Hogwarts. I was a bookworm even in Muggle schools, always obsessing over my work and wanting to learn everything and anything. The kids thought I was mental because of that, and made fun of me for wanting to learn so much. I tried hard not to let them get to me, but sometimes it would. I always had my parents to cheer me up though. They loved me no matter what…" she trailed off then, stopping herself before she became too absorbed in her memories.

Harry squeezed her hand as he said, "I'm really glad you had such great parents, Hermione."

She looked over at him and smiled softly, before her eyes went wide at the realization that she had just bragged about having wonderful parents when Harry had never had any.

"Harry, I'm so-"

"No, don't be," he interrupted, "I miss my mum and dad, and I wish every day that I had known them, but they loved me, that much I know, and I'm not mad or upset at you for talking about your own. In fact, I would love to hear more about your parents, whenever you'd like to talk about them."

Hermione curled into Harry's side on the bed that they had settled on at some point during their discussion, and Harry held her tight as her body shook, trying to keep the tears away.

"I miss them, Harry, so much, and sometimes I can't help but think that once this war is over, and I go and remove the memory charm that… that they'll be so furious with me for tampering with their memory that they won't love me anymore… that they won't want me as their daughter," she cried out, clutching tighter to Harry.

"Hermione… Hermione look at me," he said as he grasped her face gently between both of his hands, "Your parents are not going to hate you for what you did. I mean, it's possible that they might be a little angry with you, but you're their only daughter, and they'll forgive you. You did it for their protection, and I know that eventually they will understand."

It didn't take long for Hermione to calm down after what Harry had said. Though he didn't know much about the way that parents would react to something like this, he knew that her parents would forgive her, because if he had a daughter who did what Hermione had, eventually Harry knew that he would understand, and that he would still love his daughter no matter what. And plus, Hermione was his best friend, and he would not let her parents despise her for what she had done, especially when she had done it for him.

She meant too much to him, and he would not let her life after this war be a miserable one on his behalf. He vowed right then and there to make sure that Hermione would live a happy life, with her parents standing by her side, and someone who loved her holding her hand in his. Whether that be him or someone else, as long as Hermione was happy, then Harry would be happy as well.

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><p><em><strong>Author's Note: I've always believed that the relationship between Harry and Hermione is so natural and simple that it would not take something drastic and dramatic happening to get them to realize their feelings for each other, so I kind tried to bring that idea in to this chapter. Hopefully I did okay. Let me know what you're thinking, I love hearing your thoughts. And thank you for reading! :)<strong>_


	8. Chapter 7

_**Disclaimer: Nothing has changed. I still don't own Harry Potter.**_

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><p>Harry awoke drenched in sweat with the bed sheets tangled around his legs. He felt disoriented, and all out of sorts. He wasn't quite sure where he was, or how he had gotten there, or even what time it was. The last thing he could remember was being led up a set of stairs by Bathilda Bagshot in Godrics Hollow. Then all at once, the memories started flooding back to him: seeing his parents grave with Hermione, being led to Bathilda's house, Nagini the snack slithering out of Bathilda's body, the attack, Hermione coming to his rescue, and then the splitting pain in his forehead that he had felt as Voldemort changed directions and made his way to them… the dreams that he had of his parents' deaths and Voldemort's semi-demise… his mother's scream rebounded around the tent and Harry clutched at his ears, as if he could hear her now.<p>

All of this made him feel ill, and he almost did not sit up in time to lean over the edge of the bed in order to empty the very little contents of his stomach onto the ground below.

"Hermione!" he called out, feeling too weak to even move. He could not ever remember a time he had felt this sick before.

Hermione quickly walked through the tent flap, exclaiming, "Harry! I'm so glad you're awake- OH!" At this point, she had noticed how pale his features were, and the mess that he had made on the floor.

She promptly raised her wand, and with a swish the puddle of sick disappeared. With another flick of her wrist, a basin of water and a small towel came flying towards her, and she immediately went to work at tending to her best friend. She dabbed the wet cloth over his forehead and face, then down his neck and into the collar of his shirt in order to get his shoulders and upper chest. After a while of this, Harry reached up and grabbed her hand, and she gave him a questioning look.

"How long have I been out?" he asked.

"A couple of hours," she answered, looking away from him.

"How many hours?" he questioned further.

"Thirty-six hours," she said, her voice small.

"Thirty-six hours?" he exclaimed, disbelieving.

"You've been very ill, Harry."

"What do you mean, 'ill,'?"

"You've been muttering… shouting things," she answered him hesitantly, not able to meet his eyes.

Harry's stomach jumped into his throat at those words. What had he been shouting? What did she hear him say? Was he crying like a baby? Or even worse… shouting out curses like Voldemort? He was about to open his mouth and apologize when he noticed something strange about Hermione: she had dark, bruise-like circles underneath her eyes, which were bloodshot red.

"Have you slept?" It was a blunt question, nonetheless, but what was the use of beating around the bush in this situation?

Instead of answering with words, Hermione just shook her head in response.

"Not at all? Hermione, that's crazy! We're in a war, here! You need to sleep."

"I didn't want you to wake up alone!" she shouted back, rising up from her seat and moving away from the bed. "I was worried sick about you! I didn't know if you were ever going to wake up, and even if you did wake up, I had no idea what state of mind you would be in. The things you were shouting, Harry…" she trailed off then, turning away from him so that he wouldn't see the tears in her eyes.

Harry cursed under his breath, and shakily got to his feet to make his way over to her. Once he got there, he wrapped his arms around her and said, "Hermione, I'm sorry. I had no idea."

"Of course you didn't. You were asleep," she answered shortly.

"I'll take the watch now and try and find some food. I'm fine, you rest, please."

With a nod of defeat, Hermione crawled into bed and Harry pulled the blankets up around her before going to search for food. No sooner did he walk out of the tent than he forgot that he didn't grab his wand. He checked his pockets, and the clothes that he had worn from the night they went to Godric's Hollow, but could not find it anywhere. Seeing as Hermione was already sound asleep, Harry just decided to use her wand as a substitute for now and ask about his own later. Not that he thought he would actually need to make use of a wand, Hermione's enchantments kept them well protected, but it was always a good idea to keep one nearby just in case.

A couple of hours later, Harry managed to scrounge up some edible plants, and as he was getting them ready to eat, Hermione woke from her slumber and made her way over to him.

"Be honest with me, how are you feeling?" she asked.

"I'm fine," he answered, but Hermione gave him that look, that one that said that she didn't believe him in the slightest, and he sighed. "My head hurts a bit, and I'm tired, but that's it."

"Good."

Hermione sat down at the table, and Harry followed, placing two bowls of mushroom soup down in front of them and sitting across from her. They were both silent. Harry was thinking about his fatigued dreams, and he could only guess what the girl sitting across from him was thinking. He wanted to ask her… but no, he wouldn't… but he just had to know.

"Hermione," he blurted out, making up his mind, and when she looked up at him, he continued in a whisper, "What was I saying?"

He watched as her eyes went wide, and then she slowly dropped her spoon into the bowl and hesitated a moment before answering.

"Well… mostly you whimpered and moaned a lot. Towards the beginning when we first got back you were… you were shouting…" she stopped and looked away from him, unable to answer.

"The Killing Curse?" Harry ventured a guess, and his best friend looked back at him and nodded slowly.

"You were also shouting at someone to stand aside."

"My mum. I was in his head, Hermione. I relived all of it. It was like I was him, I saw it all through his eyes. I watched him take down my parents. They were unarmed. They didn't stand a chance."

His voice wavered then, and he choked back tears he wasn't even aware had formed in his eyes. Before Hermione could see him cry, he swiftly got up from the table and left the tent.

She caught up to him at the edge of their boundaries and wrapped her arms around him from behind, and let him cry. He was grateful that she was there just now, and that she was also with him at his parents' graves. There was no one else in the world he would rather share that with. This feeling scared him. Never before had he imagined having this kind of a connection with anyone. But he was glad that it was with Hermione, someone he was already comfortable with.

"Thank you," he whispered, placing a kiss on top of her head. Hermione just nodded against his shoulder before leading him back inside where they finished their soup in peaceful silence.

Once they were finished, Harry asked about his wand, and was horrified to find that it had been shattered during their escape from Godric's Hollow. Hermione apologized and blamed herself for it, and of course he was angry about it, it was his wand, but he did not blame Hermione in the least. She saved them. So, he said it was fine, and that he would just use hers until he found another one, and then he offered to take the first watch so that Hermione could continue to get some rest. She obliged, and he grabbed a blanket and set his camp up in front of the tent flap so that he'd be able to hear if Hermione needed him. It also gave him one of the best views of the forest.

It could have been minutes, or it could have been hours, Harry always lost track of the time when he was keeping watch, but a while after he sat down, Hermione was whimpering in her sleep. Harry immediately flew to her side and brushed the hair away from her face. He could see her eyes moving rapidly behind her eyelids. He silently wondered what she could be dreaming about. And then he got a hint.

"Harry…" Hermione whispered, though she was not awake.

Harry jumped in surprise. She was dreaming about him?

"Harry, no! Please…"

He wanted to wake her up. He could tell now that this was not a good dream, that she was frightened, but then she whispered one more word, one that made his heart stop, but not in a good way.

"Ron."

She uttered it in a voice that was barely above a whisper, but Harry still heard it. So she was dreaming of Ron as well, and the tone of her whisper was one laced with pleading. So even after he left, after he abandoned them, she still wanted him here. Well, no matter how much he wanted to, Harry would not begrudge her that. A person couldn't help who they loved. This thought did nothing to decrease his jealousy.

He had no right to be jealous. No right at all. He and Hermione were nothing but two best friends who had kissed in a time of need, nothing more, nothing less. But Merlin he wanted it to be more. Whatever that kiss had ignited in him, it was not going away. Not for a very long time. But if Hermione still loved Ron, and still wanted to be with him, then Harry would not take that away from her.

Slowly, he snuck away from her bunk and made his way back outside. He kept watch, but not very well. For the most part, he sat still, staring straight ahead without really seeing what was going on. A few hours later, Hermione woke up and sat next to him. She started one of her infamous fires, and they sat there quietly for a while, both pondering their own thoughts.

"Do you miss him?" Harry questioned quietly after a while.

"Who?"

"You know who."

Hermione sighed. "Yes," she answered simply.

Harry quickly looked away, but not quick enough so that Hermione could miss his crest fallen face.

"Not like that, Harry," she chuckled, albeit quietly, while taking his hand. "Ron is our best friend. The three of us have been together through thick and thin for six years. Of course I'm going to miss him. And you miss him too, I know you do. But he left. He chose to leave. And because of that… I don't think of him the same way as I did before. When someone abandons you the way that he did us… it's hard to have those kinds of deep feelings for that person anymore. It makes you think about if he'll leave again, and how you'll be able to know that you can trust him again. And besides, I kind of want to explore what you and I have going on now."

The last sentence she said quietly, and as she did, her cheeks tinged pink with a blush that Harry could just make out in the darkness. He could tell by the warm feeling in his cheeks that he was blushing as well.

"I kind of want to, also. This has been in the making for six years, I can tell," he said, before quickly leaning over and kissing her on the cheek. Hermione's eyes fluttered closed, and then when he pulled away, she returned the gesture.

"I'm glad we're on the same page," she whispered.

"Aren't we always?" Harry countered, to which Hermione smiled and bravely moved forward to press her lips against his.

Harry sighed in content. Maybe it would all turn out okay after all.

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><p><strong><em>Author's Note: I am so incredibly sorry for how long it took me to upload this chapter. Words cannot express how sorry I am. This semester has been slowly killing me. I'm swamped with so much stuff. But I finally got this done, and put up. I'm not sure how I feel about it. It's kind of a filler chapter I guess. Also, I'm thinking about changing some stuff in J.K.'s plotline around. There are specific emotions that I want Harry and Hermione to be feeling at the end of the story, and in order to get them there, I have an idea that changes some things around, but not many, if that makes any sense. Hopefully, most people will be okay with that. <em>**

**_Anyway, a big thanks to everyone who has reviewed and added this story to their alerts, and thanks to everyone who continues to do so. Thank you so much for reading :)_**


	9. Chapter 8

_**Disclaimer: Even though it's been a while, I still own nothing of the Harry Potter world.**_

_****Italics are Harry's thoughts_

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><p>He had no idea how they had made it out of there alive. If it had not been for Dobby, Luna, Mr. Ollivander and the goblin, Griphook, would still be stuck in that dungeon. If it had not been for Dobby, Harry would have come face to face with Lord Voldemort, and he was not nearly ready to fight the Dark Lord just yet. And if it had not been for Dobby… Hermione would most likely have been given to Fenrir Greyback as a chew toy. That one thought alone made Harry feel sick to his stomach.<p>

He quick did a double check to see that Hermione was still in bed. She was, and Harry let out the breath that he had been holding. Since they had gotten back, he was much more jumpy and terrified that if he turned away, Hermione would be gone. But thankfully, she was still here, sleeping soundly now, her bandaged arm dangling over the side of the cot.

What Bellatrix had done to her, it was all his fault. He had gotten frustrated and shouted, "Damn Voldemort and his bloody Horcruxes!" forgetting all about the taboo on his name. The Deatheaters were down on them in a matter of seconds. They took them to Malfoy Manor and threw Harry into their cellar, leaving Hermione upstairs for Bellatrix to question and torture her first.

She had said, "Let's deal with the girl first. I bet that will hurt wittle baby Potter the most!"

And it had. Hermione's screams had torn right through him, ripping him open.

He thought quick and pulled out the broken shard of mirror from his sock, which he kept on his person at all times, and begged the blue eye for help. Dobby came, then, and Harry told the little house elf to take the three other occupants of the dungeon to the Burrow where he knew Mrs. Weasley would care for them. Dobby then came back for Harry and Hermione. A fight proceeded, but with quick thinking, Dobby got them out of there safe.

Upon apparating to another forest, Harry quickly set up the wards and then took to tending to Hermione. She was terrified and weak, and she had every right to be. He had finally gotten her to relax enough to get to sleep, and now he sat outside beside Dobby, having no idea what to do next.

"Dobby, thank you for helping us."

"Dobby is always willing to help Harry Potter," the little elf replied.

"I need you to do me one more favor. I need to find a safe place… to hide. She… we're not safe here. We're too exposed," Harry told him.

"Dobby will do what he can to find such a place for Harry Potter." Then with a loud crack, Dobby was gone.

"Harry? Harry!" Hermione called out, sounding frightened, and Harry dashed into the tent.

"Hermione, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to leave you alone," he said as he gathered her into his arms.

She was shaking, and breathing deeply, and she clung tightly to him. "I was so scared," she whispered.

"I know, but you're safe now, I promise."

"I know I am. I'm with you."

Harry nearly froze when he heard that. Those words were exactly the same as the ones Dumbledore had used just before he had been killed, and they turned out to be a lie.

Eventually, she fell asleep again and Harry gently tucked her back into bed before sneaking out of the tent and to his previous spot once more.

He could not stop Cedric from being killed. He could not prevent Sirius' death. He let Snape kill Dumbledore right in front of him. He could not stop Ron from leaving. And he could not stop Hermione from being tortured. He was failing at everything he was supposed to do. He was unable to find and destroy all the Horcruxes, unable to protect the ones he loved. Well, not anymore. Hermione was the last straw. No one else he cared about would ever be hurt again, starting with her.

Right there, he came up with a plan, one that would keep her safe. It would take a great deal of research and studying, but thankfully he was sure the answer to his plan could be found in one of the spell books that Hermione brought with her.

Over the next few days, as Hermione slept, Harry searched the books until he found the spell he needed and was able to start practicing and preparing. Now he just needed a safe place to send her, and the answer came to him one night as he was looking at the Marauder's Map. He spotted a dot labeled 'Neville Longbottom' walk along the seventh floor corridor and stop for a moment, before it disappeared altogether a second later; he had entered The Room of Requirement.

After a week, Harry was ready to get his plan over with. Hermione was healed as fully as she could be for the time being. He did not want to do what he was going to do, he knew that she was going to be furious with him, but it was the only thing he could do to ensure her safety other than wiping her memory clean and sending her to live with her parents in Australia, and he absolutely refused to do that. He could live with her being angry and upset with him, but her not remembering or knowing him at all was something that he just would not be able to handle.

They had just sat down to breakfast when Harry gritted his teeth and decided that it was now or never.

"Hey Hermione, you know that I love you, don't you?" he asked her.

"Of course, Harry, you know I love you too," she answered with a confused tone of voice.

"And you know that you're my best friend in the entire world, and that I would do anything to keep you safe?"

"Yes. Harry, why are you asking me this?"

"I just wanted to make sure that you knew. Can you do me a favor and pass me that quill and parchment over there? I have some things in my mind that I want to sort out."

He watched Hermione get up from the little table and walk over to the equally little desk on which sat Harry's parchment and quill. He watched as her fingers came into contact with the items, watched as a blue light engulfed her, and then finally watched as she disappeared from the tent entirely, traveling by Portkey to the Room of Requirement. That was it, then. He was truly alone now.

He did not feel like keeping watch today. Instead, he packed everything up, undid the wards and apparated to a different woods, where he once more set up the wards and crawled into bed. This was where he spent the whole day, thinking about how he sent Hermione away without her consent, and how he most surely broke her trust.

Nearly eight hours later, after Harry started feeling stiff from just lying in the same position all day, he got out of bed and sat outside the tent flap, staring off into the woods. He felt numb and out of place. Not that he had not always felt out of place, because he did, it was just that the feeling felt more prominent now that he was alone.

His thoughts wandered from the numbness he felt to Hermione and whether or not she was angry with him.

_Of course she's angry with me._ _She wanted to stay with me. She gave up her life for me, and I just sent her away. _

He missed her, and he was upset about what he had done, but he did not regret it for a second. She was safe in the Room of Requirement now. This he was sure of, because Neville had not yet reappeared anywhere in the Hogwarts building, and he knew that Neville would never let Hermione out of his sight. So now she was safe, and that's all that mattered.

A rustling in the distance brought Harry out of his thoughts. His wand was out of his pocket just as fast as his head whipped up. A bright light moved out from behind a tree. Slowly, the light form started to take shape, and Harry almost did a double take. It looked like his Patronus, which was a stag, only this one did not have antlers. It was a doe, the female version of his. He quietly stood up, making sure to never take his eyes off of the doe.

It stared straight at him as well, and when he finally managed to stand up fully, the doe turned around and started walking away. From the moment Harry looked at it, it had him under a trance, and he was compelled to follow it. The Patronus led him through the woods, farther and farther away from the tent until it stopped just over a tiny, frozen pond. Once Harry got there, the doe turned into just a little ball of light and dipped down underneath the ice.

Harry tested the ice to make sure it was safe, and once he determined that it was thick enough to walk on, he made his way out to the middle of the pond, where he bent down and wiped away the snow. The Patronus was gone, but in its place once something else that glistened and glowed up at him. The shape was thin and long, and Harry thought that he had seen it before. As he looked closer, a jolt of excitement passed through him as he realized what the object was; it was the sword of Gryffindor.

He remembered what Hermione had said about the sword the night Ron left. She had said that the sword of Gryffindor had Basilisk venom in it because he had used it against Voldemort's Heir in the Chamber of Secrets back when he was 12. Basilisk venom could destroy Horcruxes. This sword would be the key to what Harry had been wanting to do since they first got Slytherin's locket. He would finally be able to destroy it and cross one more Horcrux off the list.

Quickly, Harry removed his clothes, and broke the ice using his wand. He took a deep breath and tried to mentally prepare himself for how cold the water would be before he dove under the surface. No amount of mental preparation was able to prepare him, though. It felt like thousands of tiny little knives were puncturing and pricking every part of his body.

_Focus, Harry._

Opening his eyes, and trying not to think about the pain, Harry moved towards the sword. He was inches away from it when something clutched as his throat and yanked him backwards. Harry grabbed at his throat, and felt the locket tightening around him. He grasped at it, trying to pull it away, but the more that he tried, the tighter the necklace became around his neck. He was losing air, and fast. Everything around him started to go black, until he felt two arms around him, pulling him to the surface.

As he spluttered and coughed up water, trying to breathe, the small part of his brain that was still functioning correctly warned him to pull out his wand. He searched the ground for it, but seeing as he was not wearing his glasses, he could not find it. Panic ran through him because he did not know who it was that just pulled him from the cold depths of the pond. But his panic died away and was replaced with utter surprise when he heard a voice that he would recognize anywhere, no matter how long it has been since they last saw each other.

"Harry, mate, are you mental?" the voice said, while gently putting his glasses on his face.

"Ron?"

Harry stared up at the redhead, not knowing what to say or how to react. He especially did not know how to explain the fact that Hermione was not with him anymore. It looked like they both had a lot of explaining to do.

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><p><em><strong>Author's Note: <strong>So, as it's stated on my profile page, about a month and a half ago my hard drive crashed completely, and I had to order a new one. I spent probably around a total of 10 hours on the phone countless times with tech support trying to fix it, but eventually after so many times of calling, they gave up trying to fix it and just said that I had to get a new hard drive. So, once I finally got one and restored my computer, I had lost everything that I had been working on, and had to start over. I am so sorry for the ridiculously long wait for this chapter, I don't know why my hard drive crashed, but I wish it never had. But finally, it's here, I'm just sorry that I kept you all waiting, and hopefully interest in this story has not been lost. _

_A few words about this chapter, like I had said previously, I wanted to change up some things in the plot to get Harry and Hermione to feel certain emotions by the end, so that's why I had him sending her away. Also, I'm not totally sure if you can use a Portkey to get into Hogwarts. I know that you can't Apparate while on the grounds, but I'm not sure if the same rules apply to using a Portkey. So if I'm wrong there, and it's actually not possible to use a portkey to get into Hogwarts, please correct me._

_As always, thanks so much for taking the time to read this chapter, and my entirely too long author's note, and please give me any feedback that you have. Thanks! :)_


	10. Chapter 9

_**Same Disclaimer applies here**_

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><p>The things that the locket had just shown Ron were still etched in his mind as he moved over to where his friend sat on the ground. The red head had his head in his hands, and his shoulders were shaking.<p>

"Where is she, Harry? I have to see her, to explain myself, to apologize. She needs to know… that I love her, more than anything, before she makes her choice," Ron sobbed, and Harry's heart broke.

What was he going to do now? He had never planned on Ron coming back. But if he wanted to say that, then he also should say that he had never planned on falling for Hermione, of starting to explore his feelings for her and hers for him.

"And, Harry, I'm sorry to you too. I didn't mean to get so angry, and I didn't mean any of the things I said. I was a git, and I'm really sorry," he said, interrupting Harry's thoughts.

"I know, Ron," was he all he said, not completely forgiving him yet.

"Can I see her?" he asked.

He had to tell him, but now that Ron was back he did not want him to leave. He did not want to be alone. But as soon as he took Ron back to the campsite, he would realize that Hermione was no longer here.

"Ron… Hermione's gone…"

Ron's head shot up and he stared blankly at Harry.

"What do you mean… gone? She isn't…" he trailed off.

"No, no she's alive. And safe. She just isn't here anymore. I sent her away," Harry whispered in response, hanging his head in shame. This was the first time he had said out loud what he had done, and he hated himself for it. It sounded worse in words than it did in his head. He waited for the explosion from Ron as what he had done settled in, but it did not come.

Ron just stared at him, his mouth opening and closing like a fish, and his face turning from red to white to purple and back to white.

"Well, I guess that was the best thing for her," was what he finally said, and Harry's eyes shot up to meet Ron's.

"What?"

"I wanted her to be safe too, from the beginning. I just didn't have the gall to say no to her. But you did, and you did the best thing. So where do we go from here?" was all Ron said.

"Back to the tent, I suppose," Harry responded, and the two silently walked back to their campsite.

"You know what I meant, Harry. What's our next move?" Ron questioned.

"I don't know about your next move, but I'm still trying to figure out where I'm going to go. You left, Ron. You can't expect me to just welcome you back with open arms and tell you everything I'm thinking. Besides, if I remember correctly, you didn't think I was doing a very good job of leading you anywhere. So why don't YOU tell ME the next move," Harry fumed.

"Calm down, Harry," Ron said, taking a step back from him, which further angered Harry some more.

He didn't really know where this courage to shout at Ron had come from. Never before had he really ever challenged his friend, or was the one to start an argument with him. Normally before this had happened, he would just forgive Ron for whatever he had done and they would both be on their way. But this time was beginning to seem a lot different. What Ron had done was not something that Harry could just forgive and forget about.

"Don't tell me to calm down. The things you said to me, Ron… you're supposed to be my friend, and friends don't say that. I would never criticize you the way you did me. And to insult the memory of my family… they might be dead, Ron, but right now they've been nicer to me than you have. I didn't force you to follow me on this hunt. I've never forced you to do anything. You came with me by your own choice, and I took that as you trusting me, and being there to help me out. And then you walked out. You insulted me, you insulted Hermione, and you left. You can't possibly expect me to be fine with that," he shouted, his chest heaving with deep breaths.

"But I came back, Harry. I found you, and I just saved your life," Ron pleaded.

"I know that, Ron, and I'm taking that into account. I'm not throwing you out, you can stay as long as you'd like. But… it's going to take some time for me to be able to trust you again. You just have to understand that," Harry told him, his voice softer now.

Ron hung his head in shame and whispered over and over again how sorry he was.

"I know you are, Ron. Let's just take it one day at a time. Get some sleep. Your cot's been waiting for you," with that, Harry turned away from the youngest Weasley male and went to sleep.

They had done it. He and Ron had found another Horcrux: The cup of Helga Hufflepuff. But it did not happen easily. Without Hermione, nothing happened easily. Harry, while he had been sleeping, unconsciously entered Voldemort's mind. The Dark Lord was thinking about his Horcruxes, and Harry was able to catch a glimpse of the whereabouts of one of them. He and Ron went straight to Bellatrix Lestrange's vault in Gringotts as soon as he woke rom the vision.

It was simple enough getting in. Ron disguised his face and Harry went under the invisibility cloak. They Imperiused a goblin, who took them down to the vault. Once they got the cup, things became more difficult.

With all of the commotion, Harry's Imperius curse had lifted and the goblin was able to notify the guards. A battle ensued. The goblins were strong fighters, nearly killing both of the teenagers at least once. It was not until Harry decided to think like Hermione, did they come up with a plan to escape. It was crazy, and dangerous, which was Hermione in a nutshell. But her plans were also fool proof. With that thought, Harry jumped on the back of the guard dragon and Ron followed suit, giving them a way out.

Now, they were in Hogwarts, more specifically in the Room of Requirement, surrounded by their peers, who were all exclaiming how they knew that Harry Potter would come to save them.

Harry was still in shock about what they had just gotten free from. Shock hit him even more, however, when the crowd parted as a female voice called out his name, revealing Ginny Weasley standing there staring at him. Harry stared at her too, but not with the same look of love reflecting in them that Ginny's brown eyes held for him. He was surprised… because he felt nothing for her.

Nothing was not what he actually felt, of course. He still thought she was beautiful. He was worried that she would be here when the fight broke out. He felt guilty because, yes, he did still care about her, but something in him had changed. His heart no longer did flips when he saw her. There was no angry green monster writhing inside of him at the thought that she might have forgotten about him. He still cared about her, but he did not _care_, because he had found someone else that his heart yearned for more.

And she was standing right behind Ginny. Her jaw was clenched tight from trying to keep her features calm. Harry watched as Hermione's anger filled eyes flickered back and forth between he and Ron. He visibly saw her take a deep breath before she walked over to them. She stopped directly in front of Harry, but her eyes sought out Ron's.

"I'll deal with you later," she hissed at him.

Finally, her eyes met Harry's. "I'd like to speak with you first."

As she said this, a door appeared out of nowhere on the wall off to their left, and she led him through it. The room she brought him into was tiny. There was no furniture or a fireplace. There was just one lonely window that looked out over the Black Lake that allowed the moon to shine through.

"Hermione, would you please look at me?" Harry pleaded.

They had been in the room for at least two minutes and she had yet to look at or speak to him. In fact, she faced away from him.

"Hermione, I am so sorry."

SMACK!

Harry's left cheek burned red hot from the force behind her slap. Tears were streaming freely from her narrowed eyes. She looked more dangerous than he had ever seen her before.

"How dare you? How could you do that to me? I chose to stay with you! I let Ron walk out of my life, possibly forever, because I care more about you! It was never a choice to me. I swore to stay with you, to protect and help you. I erased my parents memories for you! And this is what you do to me? You send me away? How? How could you do it? No, don't answer that. I know exactly what you'll say anyway. Right now we have a war to fight, so like I promised, I will stick by your side until the end. We'll deal with the rest later. I'm your best friend, Harry. So fight for that. Keep fighting so that once this is over you can spend the rest of your life trying to make it up to me."

With that, Hermione swiftly wiped away her tears and left the room, squaring her shoulders, and leaving behind a very surprised and guilty Harry.

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><p><em><strong>Author's Note:<strong> __Okay, here I go with the apologies again. I'm sure everyone has completely forgotten about this story, for which I am so so so sorry, a hundred times over. The summer was really busy with my full time job, and I just never had any motivation to write. Then this semester has started off hectic. And ugh. I've honestly been working on this chapter for like three months ish. I don't think it'll be that long of a wait for the next chapter. I decided to start watching Harry Potter tonight, so I was able to get some more motivation. _

_A few words about this chapter. I skipped over the whole stealing the cup from Gringotts scene because I didn't really think it was important to the story. The story is about Harry and Hermione, so I just wanted to get right to the point where they meet up again, and I didn't really feel like writing out the whole scene because nothing was different except for the fact that Hermione was not there. I hope that's okay with everyone._

_A few words about upcoming chapters. In watching the second Deathly Hallows movie tonight, I remembered how much I disliked what the directors and script writers did to Hermione's character. I may have mentioned that before, I may not have, I can't remember. But they just made her seem so weak, like Ron had to do everything for her and she was no longer the strong Hermione Granger we know and love. Like really, I don't think Hermione would ever doubt herself and say "I can't." That's not in her vocabulary. So, if the need arises, I'm going to make her into the strong character that she is. If the need arises. I don't have any other chapters written out yet, so I don't know as to what fight scenes I'm going to be adding in, if any. If anyone would like to give any suggestions, I'm totally open to anything._

_Okay, now that that long AN is out of the way, I apologize once again, and please please let me know what you thought of this chapter, what you'd like to see in later chapters, or even if you want to scold me for taking forever to upload, that's fine too, just go ahead and review. Thanks to everyone who has done so this far, and also a big shout out to all that have added this story to their alerts._


	11. Chapter 10

_**Disclaimer: Even after all this time, I still don't own Harry Potter**_

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><p>It came as a shock to everyone who knew him that Ron Weasley had come up with a brilliant idea. He had remembered the Basilisk lying dead in the Chamber of Secrets, and had gotten himself and Hermione inside it by speaking Parseltongue almost as perfectly as Harry did. Hermione, at least, was in complete shock that it had been his idea, and that he had performed something that should have been impossible.<p>

"You should do it, Hermione. Harry and I have both already killed one," Ron told her while holding out the fang that he had just plucked from the carcass.

"Give me the fang," she said fiercely, holding out her hand in expectation.

Her heart was racing, and she was terrified to say the least. She thought of how the Horcrux in Tom Riddle's diary had tried to kill Harry, and how the Horcrux in the locket affected her. It scared her the way that it practically lived inside her whenever she wore it. It spoke to her sometimes too, in her head, bringing to life all of her insecurities. She did not get to destroy the locket, but Helga Hufflepuff's cup would be a good alternative.

So even though the Horcrux terrified her, she would do it. One more Horcrux destroyed meant that Harry was one step closer to being able to destroy its maker. Helping Harry was the majority of why she knew that she could do it, because she would always do whatever it took to help him, but she would also do it for all those people who were fighting and dying for a better wizarding world, for her parents whose choices she took away from them when she took away their memories, and for herself, to show all the Pureblood supremacists that she was not a weak mudblood, but a strong and brave witch.

With that thought in mind, Hermione raised the fang high and brought it down fast and hard on the cup.

Almost immediately, the cup spun away from the fang, sputtering and shrieking, towards the statue of Salazaar Slytherin. Water rose up around them in a wall of waves. Ron and Hermione tried to back away, but they were not quick enough. The wall of water dropped down on them, engulfing them. Luckily for them, that was all that the Horcrux could muster up. The teenagers emerged from the water, and looked at each other. Hermione started laughing, which caused Ron to laugh, and then they were embracing in a hug because they were alive!

As she pulled away from him, Ron gripped her arms and looked her in the eye with such an intense look that it frightened her. She knew exactly what it meant, and though she may have wanted it once, she no longer wanted it now, so she backed away from him further, shaking her head subtly.

"Ron," she whispered, and he hung his head.

"I knew that when I left, I probably ruined any chance I had, but I had hoped that maybe… I don't know. I love you, Hermione," he told her earnestly.

"I know," she sighed before pulling him into a hug, "I'm sorry."

Ron hugged her tighter before whispering, "Well, at least you know, I guess. I did everything I could, and I'd rather have you know than not have told you at all."

"I love you too, Ron. I wish it could be in the way that you want me too, but… things changed. But you deserve happiness, Ron. And after this war, after Harry wins, after we win, you'll get it."

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><p>There was only one thing that Hermione feared almost more than Voldemort himself, and that was the fact that Harry's mind was connected to the Dark Lord's. Harry was a good, brave and strong wizard, but there were times when Hermione could see a darkness in him that everyone else overlooked. The more he looked into Voldemort's mind, the more susceptible to that darkness Harry became.<p>

That was why she pushed Occlumency so hard on him. If he was able to protect his own mind, and stopped trying to look into Voldemort's, then she would not have to worry about the darkness gaining control of him; the darkness which she was ninety-five percent positive was a Horcrux. She prayed to Merlin that that part was not true.

Since fifth year she had been trying to get Harry to stop using the connection that he had with Voldemort. She was trying to keep him safe. But now Harry was silently begging her to let him do the one thing that she was scared of.

Ron was pleading with Harry to find Voldemort by looking into his mind, but Harry's eyes sought out her own. Hermione knew just by looking at him that he was not going to do it without her permission. She did not want to give it to him. Which time would prove to be too much for him? Would this time be the one that pushed him over the edge? Was the safety of the Wizarding World worth the risk of losing Harry?

Absolutely not.

But Harry's eyes were pleading with her, begging her, trying to tell her that he needed to do this so that he could end it for him, and end it for her. Harry needed this, and so Hermione kneeled down in front of him and placed a hand on his knee, giving him her permission.

Immediately at her touch, Harry shut his eyes and started shaking in concentration. After a few moments he opened his eyes.

"I know where he is."

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><p>They had always been stronger when they were together. It was like their magic fed off of each other. Hermione even thought that when they were fighting, the three of them could read each other's minds. Harry would know just when to hold her back from running around a corner, saving her from an enemy's spell. Ron was able to read Harry's body movement right before a spell, and was able to cover his back with his own appropriate spell. And Hermione was able to create a shield powerful enough to protect all three of them as her boys dueled their opponents. When they were apart, none of them could do that.<p>

As they made their way down to the boathouse to find Voldemort, Hermione noticed that this battle was not unlike any other. Their bodies and their spells matched each other, but they seemed stronger somehow. Like all of their other fights had been leading up to this one.

Which she was sure was exactly true.

Everything that they had been through together brought them to this. They had been preparing for this fight since their first year at Hogwarts with the Sorcerer's Stone. And throughout those years, since day one of their friendship, their magic connected and has been growing stronger.

They were friends for a reason. They needed each other. And though she was technically fighting with Harry, and probably made things awkward for Ron, she knew that after everything was said and done, and after this war was over, they would all be alright in the end. They would get their happily ever after, because their friendship was not something to be taken lightly. It was not a friendship that was meant to be for only seven years, it was one that was meant to last forever. They would fight together until the end of their days.

These were all things Hermione thought of as they made their way to the boathouse. It seemed funny how she never realized these things until now. She would not realize, however, that the reason she was thinking these things, was because deep down she knew that there was a possibility that one of them might not make it through this battle.

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><p>Harry was not dead. There was no way that it was Harry's lifeless body in Hagrid's arms. This was a trick. Voldemort was toying with them, trying to get them to believe that Harry was dead in order to weaken them. Harry was hiding somewhere, waiting for the perfect moment to jump out and take them down.<p>

Why wasn't he moving?

Why was Hagrid so quiet? Couldn't he see that it was not really Harry in his arms?

_Move, Harry, move._

She should not have let him go down to the forest. Why did she let him go? She should have gone with him. She _told_ him she would go with him. She should have screamed, begged him not to go. What was she thinking? Why didn't she run after him? She just let him go.

He still wasn't moving. Why wasn't he jumping out of Hagrid's arms? Why wasn't he moving?

_Because he's dead, Hermione. He's dead, and it's because of you. You let him go to the forest on his own. You let him walk away, walk straight to his death._

No. No. No. No. No. No.

"NO!"

She was screaming now, trying to run to Harry, but Ron and George were holding her back. Agonizing screams ripped through her body. This. Was. Not. Happening. This could not happen. Maybe her screams would convince him that now it was time to get up.

But he still did not move. He would not move again. And Hermione could only blame herself for it.

"Harry, please, please Harry!"

"Silence, you insolent girl!"

Hermione fell to her knees in despair. He was gone. Harry was gone.

Gone. Gone. Gone.

He could not be. It was not possible. How could he? He was supposed to live. This was not supposed to happen this way. Everything that they had gone through and fought for was not supposed to come to this.

"Please, Harry, wake up," she whispered over and over.

She was vaguely aware of Ron wrapping his arms around her shoulders, and Neville stepping forward. Brave, brave Neville. He would always fight for Harry, even though Harry was gone.

But then… he moved!

Harry moved, rolling right out of Hagrid's arms, immediately taking a shot at Nagini, the last Horcrux.

The relief and happiness Hermione felt was unimaginable. He was alive. Harry was alive.

Alive, and she was sure that he was Horcrux free. His spells were stronger, clearer somehow. And with the realization that he was alive, her mind was clearer as well. They were going to survive. They were going to finish this.

And with that thought in mind, she followed Ron into the castle, chasing after the snake, knowing that they were going to kill it and then all that would be left was Voldemort.

And Harry was going to take him down.

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><p><em><strong>Author's Note:<strong> I suck at this writing thing. For the longest time I lost all motivation. BUT, the other night I got a huge bit of some, because the Deathly Hallows was on HBO, and I wrote this. I kind of like it. I didn't want to write out the entire battle, so I picked a few a bam! I got this. This story is almost coming to a close. One or two more chapters, I'm not sure yet. It's been a crazy long journey, and I am so sorry for the long wait between the last couple of chapters. But, I would truly appreciate it if anyone who reads it sends me their feedback. It always means so much to me._

_Thanks for reading! :)_


	12. Chapter 11

_**Disclaimer:**_** So even after, how long has it been? Three, four years? Harry Potter still does not belong to me.**

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><p>Ten Years Later<p>

Harry did not know what made him do it, but before he could convince himself that this was a bad idea, he was knocking on Hermione Granger's door. After a few moments, the door opened, revealing Hermione to be on the other side.

"Harry! Oh, it's so good to see you. What a pleasant surprise!" she exclaimed before pulling him into a hug and into her flat.

Harry looked around as Hermione ushered him inside, too nervous to say anything. Her living room was not as tidy as he expected it to be. There were magazines scattered all over her couch and coffee table. Bridal magazines to be exact.

"If I had known you were coming by I would have tidied up a bit. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

This was it. It was now or never.

"Hermione, you can't marry him."

Her face darkened and she crossed her arms over her chest. "And why not, might I ask?"

"Because I love you." He blurted the words out before he could stop himself. After all, this was what he had come over here to do, no matter what his mind might be screaming at him.

"You know that I love you too, Harry, but I don't know what you're playing at."

She was confused, that he could tell. So he needed to clarify.

"No, no, I'm in love with you. I always have been. I've been a fool. I should have told you earlier. I should have told you every day. He doesn't love you like I do, Hermione. He doesn't know you like I do. I love you more than anyone and anything, and you can't marry him. He isn't right for you," he confessed.

Hermione was silent for what seemed like ages. Then finally, she spoke. "Why would you tell me this?"

Her voice cut through him like a knife and made him jump. The pain and sorrow she was feeling was so evident, Harry almost wanted to _Crucio_ himself for making her feel that way. He should have told her sooner, rather than let all of their pent up emotions build and spread like an infectious disease. Letting ten years pass was far too long.

"Because it's the truth," he replied flatly, as he finally mustered the courage to look into her eyes. He had not been able to look at her since he walked through the door. Part of him was afraid of what he would find if their eyes met, but he needed to know now, so he looked at her. What he saw staring back was a pair of brown eyes filled with tears and confusion. He watched as the tears spilled over and ran down her cheeks, which made him feel like the most awful bloke in the world. He had not thought about what his confession would do to her. He thought that they were on the same page.

"Please don't cry," he said quietly, breaking away from her tearful, penetrating stare.

He had never been able to comfort her as she cried. He was not comfortable with crying girls in general, to begin with, but for most a pat on the back and a simple, "It'll be alright," seemed to suffice. But with Hermione… he did not feel right about brushing her off like that. She was too important to him, she meant more to him than a just a simple pat on the shoulder.

"How long have you known this?" she asked him, breaking the awful silence that hung between them.

"Honestly? All along I suppose," he said with a shrug, even though this was no shrugging matter.

"Harry, it's been so long since… I don't feel that way anymore."

"That's a load of rubbish," he blurted out.

"Excuse me?"

Harry strode over to her and stopped only a few inches from her, leaving almost no space in between them.

"You can't say that you don't feel the same way. I know you, Hermione. I know every little thing about you. I know that you can't properly function in the morning until you've had at least three cups of coffee. I know that firewhiskey makes you think that you can dance, when in reality you can't, at all. I know that when you get scared at night, plagued by nightmares of the war, you make yourself a cup of herbal tea and read Hogwarts, A History until the sun comes up,. And I know that you love me, Hermione, but I also know that you're in love with me. Because a long time ago, you told me that you never hide from me. And even when you're trying to, your eyes will always give you away."

Hermione's breathing came in rapid, shallow breaths, and her eyes were still wet, but she continued to stare right into the green eyes of her best friend.

"Harry… how…"

"How do I know? Do you want me to relive everything for you? I will. I'll take you back there, gladly."

"Not everything, Harry. Just the most important part, where everything changed."

And so he did. He took her back through the Horcrux hunt, hiding nothing from her, and leaving nothing out. They relived that short-lived time together, and Harry reminded her of how well they worked together. By the time he was finished, they had moved to the couch, holding onto each other's hands.

"Why did you wait so long?" she asked him.

"I didn't think I deserved you. I still felt guilty for sending you away, and I felt like I never fully made it up to you like I promised I would. I'm so sorry. But I love you."

Hermione closed her eyes briefly and took a deep breath before saying, "I love you too. But what now?"

"Well, we both know that your parents like me more," Harry teased.

"As well as all of our friends. The amount of times Ron tried to break us up," she laughed," So what, I just call off the wedding, and then you and I live happily ever after?"

"Is that what you want?"

"Yes," she said sincerely.

"Then that's what we do," Harry said before kissing her, no longer willing to wait, and eager to start his life with her, making up for lost time.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Author's Note:<strong> So, I'm sure that many of you will probably have to go back and re-read some of this to remember what has been going on, and for that I am so so sorry. I have no excuse. You know when things just don't seem to be going right, and you lose all motivation for everything? That was my life for the longest time, it feels. But I finally, FINALLY, got some motivation when my best friend and I had this serious talk about fanfiction. It was the first time either of us have ever mentioned that we love reading it, and that I ever told anyone apart from my sisters that I love writing it. And that conversation gave me motivation to be like "Hey, get a move on." So I finally finished this. Thank you so much to everyone who has stuck with me through this ridiculously long journey of getting this story out there. I really hope that you all have enjoyed it. And that people continue to enjoy it. Thank you for reading!_


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